Immersus

This is my third time in Brazil. Different reasons bring me here now. I don´t need to take a break, I don´t need to explore much, I want to show people what I explored and lived three years ago. A way to do this is by coming back and going to different places to experience what my friends or customers will experience. I want to show them how to get around on these two great cities. Rio de Janeiro and Salvador. I want to take them on a local bus to the famous Christ on top of the mountain, I want them to take the bus from the airport to the hostel for 7 reais instead of 50 that a taxi charges, I want to take in metro to watch a soccer match they never forget, I want them to enjoy the different and marvelous choices of food by going to local restaurants where we can enjoy double the amount of food and half the price and I want them to relax on the beaches. How am I going to do that? I speak Portuguese, I understand the people and I can bargain if needed. Besides I want them to feel comfortable going to this places because I will be around.
I want them to be travelers more than tourists.

I keep remembering

I see the last entry as November of 2006. Two and half years later I go back and read my blog. The places I visited, the things I did, the people I met. It feels like it was yesterday. I close my eyes and I am there once again. Memory is such a great thing, smells can bring past experiences. I think what it's the point of writing now since I am not traveling anymore? I guess sometimes you feel like typing a note. It does not have to be a wild experience, or unusual situation. Just a note to remind us that we still alive no matter where we are.

Back to work

Tampa, Florida. This is "Flyer", the first horse I have ever ridden

Adjusting Back

This blog was only to write about my six months out of The United States. The trip was awesome and it is over for now. I don't know if anyone is reading my entries nowdays. As I adjust back to getting mail, going grocery shopping for the week, putting gas in my car and filing new bills; I wake up everyday sending job applications and attending job interviews whenever my resume made it through the corporate filters. This is part of life I guess, prove to someone that you are capable of doing what they need. I enjoy my interviews but anytime I walk out of them I feel like I just attended a game and I missed the score somehow. Who won? Who lost? Were there good plays? Bad plays? Now what? And then going back home and still don't know anything for one, two, three weeks or ever...
I have decided to stay in the city where my brother and mother live now. Hopefully I can get a job here as well. The idea is to be together for a while. It is still strange having my own room. I like it though. I was a little tired of sharing a room with six or perhaps 67 more people. I am enjoying spending time with my brother, we are different in a lot of ways, so sometimes we clash. Part of life as well.
I have flashbacks of the cities I went to and the people I met and visited. I find myself sometimes daydreaming about what they may be doing now. What time it is there, how cold, how hot. After my last entry I went to Bergen-Norway, I took a cruise from Stockholm to Helsinki, then back to Hamburg-Germany to visit my friend Ceci and then take the train to Holland. I Holland I went to the cities of Breda, Eindhoven, Utrecth, Rotterdam and finally Amsterdam. I took a plane back to Vaasa-Finland and as I landed in Copenaghen and Helsinki I had also flashbacks of my time there. I visited friends in Holland whom I met in Kenya and Rio de Janeiro. Visiting them was one of the best times for me. It was just the perfect way to end this sixmonthsminimo trip.
I think I will continue writing. After all, life is a journey on itself and there is no space for minimo.

bye for now

The sky started to look a little 'bluer' so I decided to put the rest of my clothes on top of my rain poncho. Clear skies, orange on one side, no wind, only the sounds of my steps I could hear and my breathing for hiking a couple of hundred meters to the peak of Norra Storfjallet. The light of the rising sun hit my eyes, the glaciers down below mostly covered by a dense white cloud was as the 'bed' in case I fell. I just sat inches away from the clif and watched. By the end of this entry you'll see two pictures of this morning and two of the evening before. I was alone for a good time watching this marvelous view. I knew nobody would show for a very good time. Sunrise must have been around four in the morning for these lands for being so north and during summer time.
After a while then I walked down to the next cabin and after three hours I made it at nine in the morning. People was having breakfast. I felt like having lunch. I bought some canned meat and cooked the rice I was carrying in my bag. Talked to some people and then took a nap. I began my walk back to tarnaby at midday. It was another nine hours walked by this time the land was flat and dry. The day was sunny and the snow mountains were just impressive to my right side. I saw several deers, like the Rudolph type. I crossed some rivers without shoes, I got water from the creeks and drank it. I saw some campers but they were still sleeping of perhaps already out. The signs for snowmobiles make me just imagine how this place would be at winter. Maybe I try that too in the future, but I am not too much of winter person.
By nine o'clock I was back at the hostel. Matt told me he didn't expect me too soon. What I did can not be topped even by an extra week, I said. He quickly mentioned that they needed help organizing their hostel (www.tarnabylapland.com he has dared to mention me on his page) for a big biking event the following week. So they offered me bed and food for three days if I could help. After a beer I went to sleep. Next day we started working and my legs gave me some 'shaking' on and off during the day.
I named the earlier entries as six months minimo I and II because on the seventh of August when I got to Tarnaby was exactly six months since I left the US and the eight of August, when I spent the night on the top of Norra Storfjallet, was exactly six months after I got to Salvador-Brasil for the beginning of this trip. Nothing was planned to be here at this time. But I like to think about this coincidence.
I don't know how much longer I will be travelling now. After my hike I went to Bergen in NOrway to visit Pia and Ellen whom I met in Rio de Janeiro. They are beginning college now. Young girls full of energy and motivation. I stayed with them for a week and we had a great time. Went out with their friends, went to the house of a classical music composer (Edvard Greig), did a hike to a mountain and met other people. Now I am back in Stockholm after I quick stop in Oslo. I am making the route back. I still want to stop in Holland and later on perhaps in Italy, but I am not certain yet. I won't write on this blog as often now. I will take time for me now before heading back to the US.
Thanks for reading and for the comments. I appreciate all of them and please feel free to write me at jtello02 at hotmail.

A night in Lapland

The hike


Alone


The Hut


You name it


Warm Smile

Six Months Minimo II

I figured I needed to be on the mountains for a while and hike some kilometers so I charged the credit card to Hamevan, on the Lapland area of Sweden. The fifteen hours will have to pass by quickly so I pulled again the 'Italian Grammar' book thinking that I could be entertained by it. 'The DaVinci Code' was a quick reading but I thought I was reading a movie script. I liked the facts the author wrote but not too impressed with the story, too perfect, too Hollywood.
I started on train but at the first stop in Umea I had to change to a bus. There are plenty of seats on these buses so it is not that bad after all. I saw a girl with a big backpack so I decided to talk to her and ask her about the hiking trails. I wanted to walk from Hemavan to Amarnas but she quickly told me that was a six day trip. I only wanted to do two days. Another girl heard our conversation and asked me if I had reservation for a hostel. When I told her I didn't she offer to give me a bed at the hostel she and her boyfriend run in Tarnaby, the town twenty minutes south of Hemavan. I decided to get off the bus with her. Her boyfriend Matt, an Australian who moved to Tarnaby for this business, was waiting for her so the three of us went to the hostel. Lindy was her name. She and Matt had one more guest, Quincy, who was on a fishing trip. Quincy and his buddy Lars were back at Tarnaby and were about to cook what they caught. I was invited to dinner with Lindy, Matt, Quincy and Larsh. Very nice salmon with rizoto, bread and some ham. Larsh is a chef and after several glasses of wine and some boysh talk until five in the morning we went to sleep. Next day was my day to hike. Alone but wishing to meet somebody on the road I was dropped by Matt in Hamevan and started my journey at three pm. Before, we did a quick stop to get a rain coat, some fruit and water. The pictures on this entry describe a lot better what I may write. Peaceful, quiet, distant and perhaps loneliness is what I felt on the hike but nevertheless it was quiet a sight I had in front of my eyes. A couple was with their kid walking. The little girl, around eight years old, was also with her small backpack. At six fifteen pm I made it to Viterskalstugan. Three ladies running the cabin told me there was a hut 500 meters short from the top of the mountain if I didn't want to pay the 240 krones (around $30 US). I thought it was still early for me to hike up to that hut and spend the night there without spending a penny. Reason number one. Reason number two: I would be really close to the peak of the mountain to wait for sunrise and take some pictures from the very top of Norra Storfjallet at 1,766 meters (5,793 feet)above sea level. I continued my journey and soon I started to see the valley down and far. It was a foggy and cold day and the hike was very steep. There were orange dots painted on some stones showing the route to take to the top. Soon I couldn't see anything down below. I was wet from sweating and the fog. It then became dark due to the fog and I was getting tired. I think I was climbing for about two hours and I couldn't find the hut. I admit I started to get a little nervous. I was getting tired and walking down would have been too dangerous since the slope was very steep and I had to use my hands sometimes to get my balance or avoid falling. I reached the top and still couldn't see the hut. I couldn't see more than 30 yards in front of me. My compass showed i was in the right direction to the hut according to the map, south. I gave up and decided to walk to the next cabin. I knew it would take me about three more hours and I had to rush to get there. As I kept walking I saw the hut. I saw the silhouette of it and I thought I was watching a horror movie when castles or people appear from foggy empty places. Once inside I took my wet clothes and changed for dry ones, a T-shirt, a long sleeve shirt, shorts and a pair of socks. There were two wooden benches and a table, a box with some pencils, matches and paper. I tried to sleep but everything was very cold. I could hear the wind blowing and I didn't dare to walk out. My feet got very cold, the bench got even colder and I was getting sleepy. I decided then to start moving my arms and do some small jumps to get my blood flowing.I didn't want to over do it because it meant to sweat and have wet clothes again and I didn't have anymore. My mind started going really fast, I knew it was too dark to walk, besides it was on the way down. It was even dangerous and my legs were weak. I thought to myself this is the craziest thing I have ever done. I have been called cheap bastard in many languages by someone on this blog, this is an opportunity for that person to call me that again in Swedish. I thought it was very irresponsible not to have a sleeping back with me. At the same time I have to say that the idea of not giving up climbing the mountain was stronger than saving thirty dollars for the room. But once I was up there, I said: "Now what? Now that I am here, what? Now that i am very cold, alone and just following my instincts as my next move,what? just to say I spent the night on top of a mountain?" I thought, my life is more valuable than bragging about this night. I Kept moving and rubbing my hands against each other while I looked and waited for sunrise through the hut's little window.

Six Months Minimo I

I got to Stockholm in the morning and after taking a look at the hung map of the city in the lobby of the bus station I walked to get a bed in some hostel.It was around 7 seven in the morning and I was feeling a little tired. Tired about packing and unpacking for the past six months. I soon realized I only wanted to hang out near the hostel and perhaps with the people there. I didn't have the energy to wonder around or go to museums or do some sightseeing, at least not on my own.I thought about getting back to the US soon. My six months were almost complete so I was happy that I made it this far. That was the third of August. Next day I made friends with Javi (from Spain), Romer and Remy (from France) so we decided to walk a bit and try to catch a boat that would take us to some of the 24,000 (no exageration) little islands of the archipelago. Only Javi and I ended up going. The young french decided to stay in the city. We went to Grinda, about two hours away but we only found campsites. The ride was nice but we thought, or I thought, it was a place to go, camp to spend the night and go back next day, not worth it to go just for a couple of hours. Later on Javi and Danny (from Holland) hit a bar and spent some krones drinking beer and pushing away a guy who insisted on being with us because he wanted to get to know our female friend from Holland, Danny. We had to be a little mean to this guy and finally he gave up. Back at the hostel we spent more time at the patio and talked to other travellers. I planned to stay only two days but I ended up extending my visit every morning for three more days. The last day I decided to move to a hostel-boat (picture). I recomend anyone who will be in Stockholm to stay here if you like hostels more than hotels or just if you want to experience it. One of the guys who works at the hostel in Copenhagen talked to me about Lapland, the northern part of Sweden, Norway and Finland. A place with mountains, rivers and lakes. Away from the city. I really wanted to go with somebody else. Only two people were interested at the Stockholm hostel but they were planning on doing it two weeks later. I thought then to give it a shot. It will be my returning point of my travels I thought. I thought about the fifteen hours between train and buses to get to Hamevan. I hesitated.

Shit happens

Today August 2 is my last day in Malmö. I meant to come here, the city across the bridge from Copenaghen (1 hour away in bus), before heading to Stockholm. Big cities can be a little tiring sometimes, perhaps I am getting a little tired of packing and looking for hostels anytime I arrive to new cities, but Malmö was nice to stop and walk around. One of the biggest attraction is the 'turning torso' building. Look it up, it is great looking and impressive. Yesterday, after i arrived I rented a locker in the central station for my backpacks. Then I went out and walked a little lighter around the city. I wouldn't be surprised if statistics show there is more women that men here, or at least I saw it that way. There are some old churches and buildings. As I was walking around i spotted a building with the sign of the International Youth hostel. I was surprised about that since the tourist information office told me the hostels and camping sites were a little away from the center of the city. this was about to blocks from the main strip of restaurants and shops. I went there and the lady told me this was their opening night. I thought, I could be part of the first customers of this hostel and sleep in a bed that nobody has slept before, a shower that nobody has used before and a toilet nobody has...you get the idea. So after pulling my International Youth hostel gold member card out (haha, no there is no gold membership) I went to the station and went back to the hostel with my bags.
I thought about going out but the rain and I being so tired decided to stay in after having a couple of bread with Nutella.
Today I walked up, went to turning torso building, it was raining still and i was deeply thinking about where other places to go in Scandinavia or if I should get a job as a waiter or something since everything is so expensive here. I went to the bus station, charged my credit card with the ticket to Stockholm for tonight at ten at night (it is 8 pm as I write this) and to walk around a little bit more. The lockers say you leave your stuff for 24 hours but they didn't say that once your take the key out you can only retrieve your stuff once. So you really don't have the 24 hours freedom they are advertising. I thought about going and complain about this misleading notice and suddenly I received a splash of feces from the sky. Some big bird dropped some extra weight it didn't need. Now I had to go, change my clothing and pay again for another 24 hours of "24 hour locker service".

Catching up

I finally can catch up with the time on this blog. I spent a whole week in Copenhagen and I am already seeing that my dollars, euros and krones are draining away. I am still amazed to see so many people riding bikes to work, to bars, to supermarkets not just for exercising. I mean. I am talking about over 50% of people using bikes instead of driving cars to commute. Well, distances are a lot shorter than in the US and the roads safer than in Peru and the cities have special trails for the bikes. Even intercity roads. I met a couple of guys from Finland who rode from Stockholm (Sweden) to Copenhagen (Denmark) in seven days (630km, 391 miles) taking several breaks of course but they told me they could have made it on 3 days.
I enjoyed the man-made beach in Almagor. 2006 is its first year opening. It is weird not to see palm trees or little bars along the beach but I heard something that they want to keep it like it. Who knows if the situation will be the same as the years come. The sand is not real sand, it is gravel so it gives even a bigger feeling of an artificial beach. The water is cold and nice and to add to the artificial status, you can see some windmills no too far from the shore. These huge slow-motion fans looked like monsters that are about to become alife and walk around the waters. I did go to Ishog a more natural beach and then to Helsingor were a massive castle (Kromborg) lies by the tip of Denmark from where you can see Sweden (city of Helsinborg to be precise).
One of the attractions in Copenhagen is to check the "Little Mermaid", a sculpture from 1913 that, many say, gives an idea or the sensation she is thinking about jumping.
I hung out with the rest of travellers the rest of the days and walked along strips of restaurants and Crystiania and did some BBQ to save money. Crystiania is a small neighbohood in Copenagen where several type of drugs can be found but I thought it has been adjusted a little bit to the tourists. It is still has its own character though but police did their rounds since consuming drugs in Copenaghen remains illegal. I friend told me he might be able to hook me up with a job but things didn't work out so I decided to leave town before I keep spending the money in one place. To finish this entry I also enjoyed watching a Triathlon event which was won by a French athlete. Pierre Dorez. I am not familiar with this sport at all but he swam 1,5km (0,93miles), rode the bike for 40km (24,85 miles) and then run 10K(6,2 miles) all in one hour 54 minutes. His first 5K run he made it on 15 minutes after swimming and biking!!!. As Martin Lawrence would say: "That's krazy".

Hamburg

After the game i met some French guys who were dressed with the France's uniform of the 80's (high and tight shorts) they were also wearing some red wigs. They pretended to look like Platini.One of the classic French players of those years. Streets were closed and everybody was drinking away. The one thing that surprised me was the cool police squad. They even posed with everybody for pictures. A female police officer allowed one of the french guys to give her a kiss on her cheek when the other took the picture. I met on the same block with the friend who gave me the ticket and told me she was heading to Passau the next two days with her brother and friends. So I spent the next day in Munich visiting other venues. I met the group on the train station and then left to Passau. One hour and a half south of Munich. I used this time also to relax and watch the German game against Portugal for the third place and the final between Italy and France. It was a beer garden where we went. One of my souveniers from Passau was a mark on my head done by one of the speakers that somebody tripped over. The german guy behind me got the worst part i got the rebound. Time in Passau was nice and relaxing and my friend Uta showed me around lakes, bavarian castles, and we even rode bikes to Austria for a beer. Passau is mainly a college town and sorrounded by the rivers Danou and Inn. At was surprised as the friends Uta introduced me to spoke Spanish, mainly with Argentinian accent since they were exchange students on that country. We also attended a night of classical music performed by the students of the school. I have never been transported to different emotional stages by music. This is my best definition of classical music after hearing it live for the first time.
I moved then to Hamburg to meet another friend, this time a friend from High School who I hadn't seen in nineteen years. Cecilia.

Germany with friends.

After the game i met some French guys who were dressed with the France's uniform of the 80's (high and tight shorts) they were also wearing some red wigs. They pretended to look like Platini.One of the classic French players of those years. Streets were closed and everybody was drinking away. The one thing that surprised me was the cool police squad. They even posed with everybody for pictures. A female police officer allowed one of the french guys to give her a kiss on her cheek when the other took the picture. I met on the same block with the friend who gave me the ticket and told me she was heading to Passau the next two days with her brother and friends. So I spent the next day in Munich visiting other venues. I met the group on the train station and then left to Passau. One hour and a half south of Munich. I used this time also to relax and watch the German game against Portugal for the third place and the final between Italy and France. It was a beer garden where we went. One of my souveniers from Passau was a mark on my head done by one of the speakers that somebody tripped over. The german guy behind me got the worst part i got the rebound. Time in Passau was nice and relaxing and my friend Uta showed me around lakes, bavarian castles, and we even rode bikes to Austria for a beer. Passau is mainly a college town and sorrounded by the rivers Danou and Inn. At was surprised as the friends Uta introduced me to spoke Spanish, mainly with Argentinian accent since they were exchange students on that country. We also attended a night of classical music performed by the students of the school. I have never been transported to different emotional stages by music. This is my best definition of classical music after hearing it live for the first time.
I moved then to Hamburg to meet another friend, this time a friend from High School who I hadn't seen in nineteen years. Cecilia. Time in Hamburg was also relaxed and different. I stayed with Cecilia and she introduced me to a lot of her friends so I felt a little bit connected with the people. We even went to a couple of small concerts. "Panteon Rococo" was a good show. Towards the end of the show the singers allowed some of the audience to climb to the stage from where many let themselves carried through the crowd as if there were being dragged by the current of the many hands on the air. I highly recomend this group if you like progressive songs in Spanish. No need to understand the lyrics just follow and feel the music. Most of my rounds in Hamburg were in St Pauli. A strip with plenty of bars and shops and pubs that resembled a little bit like Las Vegas but no big buildings. I was there the day Harley Davidson had a event so all the people who had these bikes went out to show off. I admit I am not a big fan of these motorcycles, especially because of the noise they make, but there were some designs that really caught my attention. The spiderman bike, the leopard one, etc. After spending a week in Hamburg I decided to go to leave Germany and go to Denmark. A friend of mine who I met in Sao Paulo talked there about working while in summer time. I caught the train for 32 Euros, on special, and headed out on July 22.

Zizu (zee-zoo)

I think I will return to Spain to spend more time. My focus was now in Berlin and the World Cup. This massive event categorized as the biggest sport event captivates more than 2 billion people around the globe every four years. In Berlin the atmosphere was enthusiastic, I got there when Germany beat Argentina and advanced to the third round (there are four rounds before reaching the final game). As I emerged from the subway cars, bicycles and motorcycles were driving around the city blowing their horns and waving their germans flags. After booking in the hostel I decided to go out a couple of blocks and the streets were still celebrating. A bar had put a big screen on the sidewalk so people watched the game again as we all drank beers on the street, which by the way it is also allowed anyday and anytime in Germany. The following days I went to other bars to watch other games the atmosphere was a lot different when Germany lost agains Italy on the 4th round putting the Italians on the final game and Germany for the game for the third place, there were no waving flags this time. I did some tourism as well so I went and visited the Berlin wall and a concentration camp, Sacsenhausen. I pictured the Berlin wall as a thick, tall wall, but it was thin and apparently easy to climb. Of course things changed when you have two walls (an internal and an external one) before trying to cross and guards that monitor the walls. Sacsenhausen was though a lote more intriguing and I felt a cold wind on the 32 celsius (96 F)degree weather going through my body while standing and watching the camp, the guards towers, the rests of the electrical cables used as fence around the camp, the torture sites, the "hospital" and the exhibition of pictures and biographies of people who lived here either as workers or prisoners. I think though that the Germans have done a great job putting this past behind to build a new society.
A friend who I met in Sao Paolo told me she was working with the ticketing office in Munich so she knew I was coming to Germany. She told me she would try to get me a ticket but it was nt for sure so I decided to left Berlin and took a bus to Munich. The day had a great return on my investment. I got in for the France-Portugal game...for free. The winner of this game would go to the final game and play the Italians. I couldn't believe my eyes when watching these star players on the pitch. I was used to see them on TV. Zinedane (Zizu) , Henry, Ronaldo, Figo, Vieira, Makalele, Deco...

Europe

I came to Europe through Spain. I never thought I could be here and travel around although I thought to myself that I was just completing my wish of travel for at least six months. In an rate I knew I was not to get back to work anytime soon. Being in Spain was...nice. Going to the Ramblas and some of the tourist spots, the beach, and staying at my friend' house. A friend who was my neighbor since we were fifteen in Peru. It was nice to see her and see the life she has in Barcelona. I only spent three days in Barca as the football team is known. The one which won the Champions League. I knew I wanted to finish in Germany after those three days so I hurried and bought a ticket to Barcelona, since I arrived to Madrid from Lima. My first experience as a new comer to Europe was the accurate times. I forgot i was not in Bolivia where they wait until the bus is full. This time I was on time but not in time for the train. It left at the time they said 11:32. I got to the door at 11:32 so I missed it. Hmm. I paid an extra 6 Euros to take another train at 4:30pm. This was late to arrive to Bacelona so they said they will return the money because of that. Yes!!! I said, bu to my surprise they only gave me back the 6 extra I paid for the later train, "the one at 11:32 got there on time" they said....I bought a plane ticket to Berlin and I made sure I was one hour earlier before the flight. The flight to Berlin was late though, so they made us wait one and a half hour. "Sorry about that. Have a nice flight" they said. Hmmm. I was punished for not being on time at the train station but a simple sorry was what the airline attendant gave me when they were late. "So this is my first impression of Europe". I thought.

Time to fly again.

Back in Trujillo to keep eating the great diversity of Peruvian cuisine I spent the last days watching with my brother, who was in standby of his job due to a workers' strike, the World Cup. They were played in regular channel so we just had to wake up early enough to have our marathonic sessions of futbol. Yes, I think I gained some weight. All the restaurants and bars had them on but we chose to stay and watch them at home. Since Peru didn't qualify AGAIN!! we believed the ambiance on these bars where just not there. We saw through TV news a lot of bars in Lima with a lot more life since there were many Brasilians and Ecuadorians in that city so they went out to support their national colors.
Otuzco was the last city outside of Trujillo I visited. It is a two hour ride into the mountains side and a place I never went when I lived inTrujillo. I was just entertained and at awe when i saw some equally beatiful landscapes that I saw in Cusco and some cities in Bolivia and maybe even prettier. "And this was so close to where I used to live?" I asked myself. The town itself is small and at 2,627 meters (8,618 feet) above sea level I felt again the short of breath when walking around and meeting some kids, a drunk and a group of young man getting ready for a party and using a donkey to carry the three cages of beer. (I have the picture, I promise I will post it...). The one plate I was trying to eat and on a proper way was Guinea Pig. I found it here. The entire animal is cooked with cylantro and potatoes and it is served with white rice. It doesn't have a lot of meat but enough to use a fork and knife and then take it with your hands. Yes, some of you may get disgusted or even heart broken for this little animals which are kept as pets but since it is a rodent original from South America, the Incas used them also as food and that custom has remained in this country. All I have to say is that it is nice tasting. As I waited on the intersection of roads along with some vendors to go to yet another higher city I started thinking about the ticket I bought to Spain a couple of days earlier. My mother was to depart to Tampa, Florida USA where one of my brothers is studying English, my other brother was interviewing for a new job in a mine in Lima, my dad trying to stay busy selling his late mother's apartment since he was on advanced retirement but still looking for another job. Europe was to be the next part of my trip. Spain was the cheapest route to Europe, I thought about skipping the traditional tourist road of Spain, France and Italy. I kept thinking about Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Netherlands...

More of the rest

Trujillo was perfect to rest and talk a lot with my family. I hadn´t spent a lot of time on my travels back to this city before. Two weeks of vacation sometimes is not enough when you are some thousands miles away. The other city I always wanted to visit was Chincha. This small town south of Lima is mainly known because the biggest population of black peruvians live here. This time I went with my brother and two friends from high school. We went on one of my friend's car so we had a lot more flexibility to go to different places quickly, besides it was just a weekend we were using since my friends had to work monday so it worked perfectly. Asking a lady in Chincha for the parties that the locals give she stated that it is only during carnival when one can hear and attend the parties with the music of this region. Peruvian music with african roots, instruments like cajon, guitarra, quijada that the artists use to create a sort of 'tap' dancing. And literally I think I counted about four black peruvians on the street. Oh well, next time I go straigh to the neighborhood of Barranco in Lima and dance until dawn with this music that has a lot of energy and make you sweat like you were in an aerobic class: Festejo.
We also went to a ranch that used to belong to a family that grew cotton, Hacienda San Jose. It is surprising how this ranches had even a chapel so the workers didn't have to go to the closest town to mass. The priest would come to the ranch and celebrate mass there. I saw the same sructure in the Colpas in Cajamarca. These farms date about the 1,600's I believe.
We visited the pre-Inca ruins of Centinela, at the arrival of the Spaniards they turned it into a kind of fortress since it is about 4 km of the ocean and its high construction allows you to have a good sight of incoming ships. We also went to visit Melchorita, a woman who according to the locals made miracles and she is on the 'waiting' list to be canonized. It is incredible the amount of followers she has. Walking around the isles of this house I felt heavy air, people totally convinced that if they pray hard enough she can give them the wish they want. From what I saw, they were parents with kids and old people accompanied by their sons or daughters. I just assumed they were ill and the wishes were merely for their healthy being.
After eating 'manchapecho' a sort of noodles with red sauce and pork we headed to Pisco. (If I translate spanish manchapecho to english it would be 'staining to the chest'...because the sauce can do that to your shirt...).
Pisco is a small town, where The Pisco, a tequila type of drink with 44% grade of alcohol made of grapes is produced, and where we were to spend the night before going to Paracas next day. We drank at the main square the bottle of wine we bought on the road so we felt like we were on a place where we could enjoy freely and hang with the locals and watch some kids going to their parties. Until the police came and quicked us and the rest of the 'free spirit' drinkers out of the plaza. Nothing major, they just told us. "Please don't drink here, it is prohibited to drink on the main square you know".
So we went to a club and drank and danced until 4 am.
Paracas was our final stop so we payed with the rest of the tourists for a ride to the islands where the Humboldt Penguin (the Peruvian penguin) lives. This is an amazing island where the guano http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guano of these birds is extracted to fertilize lands. Our trip to these islands was not to know more about the business of guano in Peru but to watch the many animals like sea lions, penguins, pelicans and seagulls that habitate on these not cold areas of the world.

The rest of Peru?

As I left Arequipa, and visiting some members of my mother family I decided to go to Trujillo, the city where I grew up until high school, to stay there for some time and take a break from my travellings. I write this long after my stay in Trujillo. I saw some friends, walked around the halls of the house, walked around downtown recognizing stores and places. I do the same thing anytime I come to visit. I pay attention when walking around or going to the pubs or restaurants. There is always somebody I recognize, perhaps with less hair or more weight. So it is inevitable to talk and ask about people we used to hang out when I lived in this city. I find out that some people died, or moved out or have business or had plastic surgery.
I wanted to travel a bit too, so I went with my youngest brother to Cajamarca to visit a friend of mine who has been working there for almost four years already. Cajamarca is the city where the Spaniards walked in when they started the conquest of the Inca Empire. It is the city which was the turning point for what Peru is now.
We went to watch the Cumbemayo ruins, then with my friend Richard to the Inca's hot springs. This hot springs are similar to the ones I went in Oruro and Santa Teresa and Calera, although they have built three big pools wich is filled by these natural waters. We got a beer and relaxed around seven on the evening. My brother had to go to work to Chiclayo after our second day so I Richard prepared the grill and had an easy Sunday. Next day I did some hiking by myself. The sky was blue and the cottonish clouds above the andes and the meadows were just the perfect companions for the silence and tranquility I breathed that morning. I also went to a graveyard used by the pre-incas. They used this hill and made a bunch of holes where the placed the body's bones, sometimes these holes were for a specific family so a hole could have inside different and smaller cavities for all the member of the family. When one stands away from the hill, the holes look like small windows (ventana in Spanish), hence the name for the graveyard: "Ventanillas de Otuzco". On the afternoon I went to The Colpas, a big farm, almost a ranch, where it used to be one of the main producer of milk for the region. The record for one cow was of 46 liters of milk in one day. Now they barely make it to 20. In the seventies there were some reforms in the Peru that affected the efficiency of these type of farms. The attraction now is that when is time to milk the cows the farmers call them by their name and they walked one by one when hearing their name. I couldn't leave Cajamarca without visiting the "Rescue Room". The last Inca Atahualpa was captured by the Spaniards on 1532 and he was promised freedom if he filled this room with gold and silver. He did what he promised but the Spaniards killed him anyways. Standing by the door of this room I wanted to describe what I was feeling. It has happened so long ago but the Spaniards didn't do what they promised, Atahualpa's freedom. So I sensed treachery and dishonesty, which I can't stand. Of course when in war you can not make your enemies your allies so I guess history has been repeating itself along the centuries. So I sensed logic. Now being so far away from Peru and in a country that has gone through much more I think the Rescue Room is just a piece of history which made a deep mark in Peru and I will use that to understand that things of the past are gone for good or for worse but that's what they are. Just marks, not the end of our present lives.

The Jealous Condor in Arequipa

I thought about buying a plane ticket back to Cusco for sixty US dollars. I thought it could be quicker and more comfortable that way but then I thought about my promise to avoid planes by all means to get to Trujillo. So for twenty dollars I bought my bus ticket. Another twenty-two hours. I knew it was going to be a long ride, specially since I was going back to Cusco, but I couldn’t go anywhere north from Puerto. Back in Cusco the next day I got lunch and ice cream and walked around a bit. I left my big backpack at the bus station since I decided to leave for Arequipa the same day at seven thirty at night. Next morning I woke up in Arequipa. I looked for a hostel at five in the morning and after several attempts I got a good one very close to the main square. Manfred, the owner, was very helpful. I checked in and knowing that if I went to be I had fallen asleep I called my uncle Pedro who knew I was coming because I had called him the night before from Cusco and went to have breakfast to his house. I saw him after almost nineteen years, his wife Raquel and my cousins who already had kids. I spent the rest of the day there and later on I retired to the hostel. I was really tired and I had booked a tour to go to Colca to watch the condors next day. Time to sleep. The experience with this tour company was a lot different than the one in Cusco. They had a van picking all the tourists and most important they were on time. The tour consisted of going to Chivay the first day and then go to the Colca canyon to watch these huge birds fly. We stopped in several places before getting to Chivay. We saw the back part of Misti, the dormant volcano, and the Chachani. We also saw the Ubinas, the volcano that few weeks before was throwing up some ashes and that made some of the near towns to be evacuated. There were several vans bringing tourists to the Colca. We got also to the 4,900 meters (16,076 feet) above sea level. They advised us also to chew some coca leaves. We did it but getting there on a car was a little more manageable. It was definitely colder but we were there for a short period of time. Just to take pictures of the Ampato volcano where a mommy Inca was discovered on 1995. When we descended to Chivay we had lunch and then walked around until five on the afternoon to go to the Calera hot springs. They had an indoor pool and an outdoor one. We definitely wanted to be on the outdoors one so we can see the sky and the mountains around us. There were a lot of people on the pools too so you get to know some people, hear their stories and perhaps get a drink with them. After the hot springs we were taken back to the hostel and then to a restaurant for dinner and to watch a folkloric dance. We drunk and danced and decided to go to another pub afterwards. A coffee or lunch could be a way to mingle with people but alcohol is for sure a more relaxed and happier way to do it. But I may be wrong.
We woke up at five in the morning and went to the Colca Canyon. We stopped on a couple of towns on the way but we all wanted to get to the point where these unusual big birds live. The condor is a huge scavenger bird that lives on the Andes. There is even a folkloric song “The Condor Pasa” (The Condor passes) which its tone I recognized once on one of Simon’s album, but I can not recall the name of the English version. When we got to the Condor Cross there were already several people taking pictures and filming, everybody was just sitting and looking up, down and sideways to catch the best angle of this animal who looks beautiful when it flies and glides but it looks really scary and perhaps even ugly when it stands. They said we got lucky to have seen about five at the time. Sometimes they don’t come out. After taking pictures we did a small trek around the Canyon, at the top, to finish our trip. Three of the girls were doing a longer hike down to the Canyon where they were to spend the night. So they didn’t come back to Arequipa with us. There is also rafting that can be done in the Canyon but it needs to be arranged from Arequipa as well. I had decided to stay only three days there so I spent the last day visiting downtown Arequipa and the museums. Juanita, the mommy found in Ampato, is a must see. This Inca girl who was about fourteen was sacrificed to the Apus, the mountains, about five hundred years ago. It was discovered by chance, frozen by the snow of the volcano Ampato, and has remained very well preserved in Peru. You can see her skin still there but a little burned by the snow. Her fingernails and hair are intact. It gives the sensation of a wax doll. They named her Juanita after the anthropologist who discovered her, Johan Reinhard.
Before leaving Arequipa I also went to old neighborhoods where mom told me about. She was born and grew up in Arequipa so I even though those places she mentioned I am sure don’t look the way she knew them I decided to take a peak anyways. I saw the volcano Misti again but this time its front, the way the city of Arequipa looks at it everyday.
Two nights before I met with one of cousins as well. Guillermo. We had dinner together. During our conversation while eating llama, ostrich and beef dinner he kept looking to my eyes like if he was trying to figure out why I had resigned to my job and I was traveling on a very cheap budget. I just kept looking to his eyes, while he talked, like if I was trying to get him to tell me I was crazy. We cheered our glasses one last time and heard him saying: “I am jealous”.

Puerto Maldonado and Infierno.

Once I found a hostel for three dollars in Puerto Maldonado I decided to investigate and know more about this city I never planned to come. I made friends with a tourist agent and he advised me to go and visit an animal shelter. I saw jaguars, anacondas, monkeys, warthogs, tapirs and scavenger birds. I was given a tour of this place, which included also a lecture about the uncomfortable situation they had by not getting enough funds to stay on business. They welcome volunteers to help with the care of animals as well. I love animals but it is not my thing to spend a lot of time playing with them. I gave the guy a tip for something they may need there. “El Jaguar” is the name of this place, in case you want to check the place someday.
Puerto Maldonado was for me the city to take a break from Cusco. People don’t beg on the streets. They do not offer you all sort of things to party or make money and the traffic is very well organized even though there is no police in every corner. Puerto Maldonado is in the jungle so it is really hot here, 30 C (92 F) on fall season. I thought I was going to be there only a couple of days but I ended up staying about five. The place is small, warm and the people very friendly or perhaps they don’t get into your business. I, and the group of turn I had on this warm and humid city, went to Lake Sandoval to spend the whole day. We swam in the lake, the waters were a little brown, I imagine because the soil is not rocky. The group of turn was two couple of parents and their kids. One couple was German and the other Peruvian, but they all spoke German since the kids were on a German elementary school in Lima-Peru. The kids’ excitement was contagious and I also enjoyed watching crocodiles and parrots on the wild. I didn’t have the energy to climb trees as the kid did though. By the end of the day we say goodbye but to my surprise I saw the families a couple more times before our departures.
Next day I decided to go to “Hell”…(‘Infierno’ in Spanish, is the name of the small town). I heard it was a mysterious place, where a chaman lives and the people are not very picky about the people who go there. A chaman is a sort of sort of sorcerer who gives Ayahuasca, a type of beverage that makes go in deep conscious touch with your inner self. They say it makes you face or at least see your fears and insecurities and that the Incas used them for operations and sacrifices. I went to Infierno with the intention to find out more about this Ayahuasca and the Chaman who assisted you with the ritual. It is indeed a ritual when performing this activity. One has to fast for about three days, the ceremony starts at dawn or a little later and you fall sleep and spend the night in the chaman’s center. There is also the possibility of throwing up and even loosing control of your bowels. A young man sat next to me in the car I took to Infierno. He was a little arrogant and without hesitating and with a rude tone he asked me what I was going to do at Infierno, and if I wanted them to burn me there. I told them I was just going to check the place. I decided to keep talking to this guy who little by little changed the way he talk and was less aggressive. He was from Infierno, this city located about forty minutes from Puerto Maldonado with about only fifteen houses and an elementary school. The car we were in was the last one going to the Infierno, the driver told me he would wait for me if I was going back to Puerto but I changed my mind and accepted the guy’s invitation to stay in Infierno to spend the night. I was on shorts, T-shirt, flip-flops, long-sleeve shirt around my waist and my camera. I had to say I thought anything can happen in this place and if this guy was as tough and rude as the way he impressed first then I had to be careful, but I decided to let my guard down and let myself be the guest of this guy and his town. He took me to the popular Chaman Ignacio who already had a Swiss girl and a guy from Puerto Maldonado who were just making time to experience the Ayahuasca. They told if I wanted to do it too, and after I told them all the greasy stuff I had eaten for lunch they told me I was going to be very sick by drinking the beverage. I also was not too interested on doing it. I chickened out but perhaps I want to resolve my traumas without any hallucinogens. We left the Chaman, the Swiss girl and the third guy and left to Juan’s house. We walked for about twenty minutes, no light at all, I could hear the animals and insects. It was still warm and we had to walk through a lot of vegetation, mud and little creeks. We also had to watch for our heads since there were some low tree branches. Juan pointed the road with his flashlight as we walked. I felt several times being far away from everything whenever I heard the long grass and leaves we touched, the insects and when I saw the view of the stars above me. When we got to his house, his brothers were there. We talked a lot, about what they do and what I do. His house was very simple and typical of the houses on the middle of the jungle. It was about three feet above the ground. This is a rainy region so they protect themselves from floods by buildings their houses that way. They had cows, pigs and roosters. It was not electricity just candles. Juan and I went to another house yet, since they had no space for us on the first one. The night was cold but I managed to sleep well. Next day we went back to the main house and our breakfast was avocado and rice. I liked it. The brother’s wives and kids were there too. They were sleeping the night before. Juan, one of his brothers and I went to the river, about one hundred yards from the house, and we swam there. It was very relaxing. It was around eight in the morning. The water was cold and the Tampopata river was not that strong so I let myself being dragged by the current a couple of times. It was a sunny day and Infierno was not being as bad as I thought, to the contrary, I was very happy I trusted myself and stayed here. We then walked back to town. Juan and his brothers had a meeting with the rest of the community about exploiting their land for tourism. They asked me not to stay there because the rest of the community may get a little confused about who I was and if I was another extreme capitalist trying to get some money by exploiting this land. I looked around and thought about this place again. The kids attending school, because it was a Friday, the community getting together, the houses above ground, the tall palm trees. Juan and his brothers and family. It was time to leave Infierno. I looked at Juan and thanked him for his hospitality. He was a young guy with penetrating eyes. We hugged and shook hands goodbye and wished to be in touch. I am sure we will.

Tarzan Boy

Today I arrived to Puerto Maldonado. It is on the jungle area of Peru. Peru has three very defined geographical regions. The coast, which has the Pacific Ocean to the west, the mountains having three branches of the Andes as its espine and the Selva or jungle, which has an immense variety of rivers, animals and vegetation. I could have gone to the Manu, this known National Park which is visited by thousands of tourists looking for the fauna and flora of the region. Puerto Maldonado is far and away and one of the last points of the border between Peru and Brasil that´s why I chose to come here. I have a feeling of looking BEYOND anytime I ´watch´ another country from a hill or from the other side of a river with my bared eyes. Since this place is twenty-two hours from Cusco by bus, I think the unpaved road makes it longer that it could be. The bus could be uncomfortable but I am already used to the small spaces between seats. I only take my small backpack with me, I check the big one in, and I put it under my seat and I kick it now and then to make sure it is still there. You hear so many stories about people taking them while you are asleep or when they get off on a earlier point. I have had no such experiences yet, and I hope I conclude my trip without them, but unfortunately it is the recommendation I have to follow. I feel sad sometimes that this country where I was born has a reputation of having thieves, but it is true. The bus took off from Cusco at 4:00 pm exactly, which was a big surprise and satisfaction for me. It stopped three times after its departure though, the first two to pick up two passengers who didn´t make it on time to the terminal to which the rest of us complained, one of the non-punctual passengers sat next to me, the third time the bus stopped was for about fifteen minutes, it was the lady who cooked dinner for the trip. I don´t know if she didn´t make it to the terminal or it was the driver who forgot our dinner. As the bus climbed the mountains we arrived to Huaro, a place between mountains, a statue of a Christ with his arms open was placed on a nearby hill. The same Christ figure I saw in Rio de Janeiro, Cochabamba and now here. I imagine the town´s people feel these statues over look them and protect them. It was in Huaro where the bus stopped also, the driver assistant got off and hugged a woman, who handled him a small suitcase and gave him some money. I imagine it was the wife giving him his clothes for the trip. Artesans and food vendors were around when we stopped here in Huaro, it was almost sunset but I could see these vendors looking up to the bus windows as if looking for buyers, others were just looking or waving.Later on, perhaps after four hours of travelling we stopped again, this time really quick for a bathroom break. Men went to the right side of the bus, women to the left. As I was urinating I could still look, very far, the lighted Christ overlooking and protecting Huaro. Shortly after this stop the driver assistant served dinner. Arroz con Pollo with a lot of cilantro. It was really good. He distributed these boxes and did a good job keeping his balance as the bus rode on this bumpy road. He did even a better job when he poured pineapple juice in the plastic glasses. Everybody on this bus, and in every single bus I have been in Bolivia and Peru so far, likes to be entertained with movies or music when travelling. We saw, this time, three Cantinflas (a famous Mexican comedian from the seventies) movies. As I was watching this movie, I had flashbacks of my attending to a movie theatre with my grandmother to watch Cantinflas when I was a kid in Peru. Once the movies were over, I was tired and ready to sleep, but the tape was still running and they had this time another movie of another Mexican comedian. I put some toilet paper in my ears as earplugs. I felt sleep and I woke up when the movie was over, but this time music was playing and the couple behind me was having a conversation. During dinner time I made acquantices with the person next to me, one of the passengers who was late at departure time in Cusco. He was from Calca, the place where I went while in Cusco to visit one of my uncles. This passenger was an elementary school teacher, and resided on Huapetue, a small mining town halfway between Puerto Maldonado and Cusco. Justo, was his name and he has been a teacher on this town for two years only. He was coming back from Cusco because he had to vote for a new chairman of the National School of Teachers. I thought, forty-four hours of travelling within three days on this road. It must be tiring. I explained too where I was coming from and what I was doing. It is good to take a break, he said.Next morning, I took a look at the several small bridges we had to cross, and the way the driver manouvered to make this long tall bus turn felt like he was riding a bicycle. Even though I said I am used to the small spaces between seats I was getting a little tired of the sudden and explosive movements of the lady in front of me whenever she reclined her seat. One of these several times I had a double play, I was sleeping and the pain of her sudden move hit my knee to which I woke up and while I reached to rub my knee the lady decided to recline her seat a little more to which my head ended up bumping the seat as well. It made me feel like one of the Three Stooges.One hour before arriving to Puerto Maldonado, we had a flat tire. It was efficiently changed by the driver assistant. Everybody, including me, got off the bus to watch and analyze the situation. It was hot (32 C , 96 F) and the view was definitely different that the snowed mountains, the llamas and people with colourful, heavy warm clothes. A lot of palm trees and vegetation which reminded me of Brasil. Once I got to the terminal, I found out the buses back to Cusco leave at three pm daily. I pick up my baggage, took a mototaxi (motorbikes which have been added two wheels and a carrier on top of them and it is the way to commute in this town). I asked the driver to drop me off at the plaza to have lunch and then walk to find a cheap hostel. I couldn´t wait to take my pants and shoes off. The driver dropped me off on a kilo restaurant, the type of restaurants I frequented when I was in Brasil, the lady greeted me with a Portuguese accent. She was Brasilian and had moved to Peru to work. I felt like I was on a different world all together.

Salcantay

Llamas in the mist


Camping for real


Break Time


Don't look down

Macchupichu


Towards 15,000 feet above sea level

Good sales man: Cristiano. Cristiano was the guy who saw me at the bus terminal and took me to the hostel where I stayed for two days, He also sold me the ticket to the Salcantay. He was very determined on his sales actions and called and visited the hostel several times to make sure I was considering his offer for this trip. He had everything for the tourist: two day tourist package, three days, four days, downtown visits, Inca trail, MacchuPichu, artesans’markets, you name it. I visited some agencies and then told Cristiano. “I have that too. How much they offered you?, I give it for five percent less, seven percent less…” Cristiano doesn’t work for a specific agency, he is a broker, he takes his sales to the agency offering what the tourist is looking for.

April 24, 2006
I was up at 4:30 am, a guy from the tourist agency will pick me up at five in the morning. This guy showed up in a taxi at six. He still had alcohol breath and told me we had to get two more guys. He didn’t have the address but he said he was on a ‘meeting’ the night before and his colleagues told him the name of the hostels he had to go to pick up the tourists. I had a great full-hour tour of downtown Cusco, the guy couldn’t find the second hostel. After riding up and down on the taxi, knocking on some of this guy’s friends doors to find out about the hostel address, asking different hostels near the neighborhood if that was the one, we finally went to the office which was already open. We got to the hotel and the couple, Laurent, from France and Onya, from Ireland, had to be woken up since they had gone back to bed thinking they were forgotten and had to think what to do for the next five days. I was a little ashamed to answer I was born in Peru when we introduced ourselves. When these acts of irresponsibility occur I take them very personal since I would like for some people of this country to take business more seriously. “I was up at four looking for your places” the agent told us. “That’s not my problem” said Laurent with a French accent. “You should have stopped drinking earlier” Onya added. We stopped then back at the office to pick up some of the equipment. We got to the bus terminal to take the shuttle to Mollaypata where our trekking adventure would start. Of course the bus was gone since it was close to eight in the morning and we were supposed to be there at six. We had to wait a little longer because I realized they had forgotten my sleeping bag, one of them went back to the office in the city to get it. The agents got us a taxi and they paid for the one-hour ride to Mollaypata. There were three more guys waiting for us over there.
There were five more groups at the plaza of Mollaypata. Each group had between five and nine members. There was even a group from the British army. All the guides were arranging with cooks and muleteers for a good price. When we got there, a local lady was complaining because she wanted all the tour guides to take her horses as carriers. Another local guy was arguing with her and saying he didn’t have to do business with her. I shortly found out this another guy was Walter, our tour guide. Everything was sorted out and we started walking. Katie, from Australia, John and Tanya a couple from England were very flexible and understanding about we being late. Cusco is at 3,250 meters (10,660 feet) above sea level. Mollaypata is at 3,600 meters (11,800 feet) above sea level, and our first camping stop this day was going to be 3,900 meters (12,795 feet). We left about 8:30 and the first hour of walking was not too bad. The group was walking always together or in pairs to get to know each other. I talked a lot also with Walter. He had dark skin, pony tail and about 1.65 meters tall (5”5 feet) and he spoke very good English considering he has never being in an English speaking country. He learned it just by talking to the tourists over eight years. As we kept walking we felt the shortness of breath. We had some high treks and then flat surface which we used to take breaks and wait or be waited. It was a little hot too, about 23 celsius (80 Farenheit), so we sweated easily. We all had bottles of water along the way but we couldn’t keep it for long because it turned warm quickly and we were only surrounded by mountains and trees and abysses. Due to the altitude I felt as I if I had a block of ice in the middle of my chest. The lack of oxygen made me inhale very deep breaths trying to fill my lungs as much as possible. This altitude impact can become serious. It may turn into soroche or altitude sickness. It may make you dizzy, your stomach gets upset and you vomit and get diarrhea, you start feeling weak and sleepy, your legs quiver and it is really hard to stand on your feet. We passed the other groups and were sometimes passed by others. This was not a competition but there were times that I didn’t like when I was passed and felt the need to be ahead of someone when I was very close to them, I felt good passing them and leaving them behind. The five of us quickly started acting as a group and look back anytime we felt one of us was missing. This first day was to acclimatize to the altitude although two members of the British army got, after two hours of walking, the soroche, Another army guy had heard me speaking in Spanish with Walter so he approached me, sweating and venting, and explained to me that two of his partners had gotten sick and he need me to be his interpreter since their guide didn’t speak English. The group I was in comprehended the situation and waited for me until I was done helping the army guys. Walter also came along. We talked to a truck driver who was going back to Mollaypata and asked him to take these two Britts to the stop right before the campsite. All the groups would stop there for lunch, besides that was the last point accessible for trucks. I managed to reduce the ride price for these guys down to twenty five percent of what the driver was asking for, not bad considering my poor negotiating skills. The guys were taken away and we all continued our hike. After a couple more hours we got to the lunch site and we sat by a reef overlooking the green mountains and blue skies filled with cotton balls look-alike clouds and applied lots of repellent. We got to the campsite by five thirty. Carl, the English guy who approached me to help him with his two ill friends, asked me once more to help him talk to campsite owner to get some horses for next day. After several minutes of pulling and pushing on prices we settled the transaction. They needed two horses for each of the guys who were sick but wanted another one to carry their bags. The cook and the muleteer told me they wanted to carry the soldiers’ belongings so they could get the money offered for the third horse as porters. I looked at them, I translated it for Carl, Carl accepted, I translated it back to the new porters, they smiled and thanked me and Carl. On dinner time Carl showed up with two big “Cusqueñas”, the beer brewed in Cusco. I considered that a good payment for my services and shared them with the rest of my group.

April 25th, 2006
We woke up at six in the morning, it was cold considering it was the last days of summer on the south of the American continent, about 4 C (36 F). . The cook prepared breakfast, hot chocolate, bread with butter and a power bar. We put the tents away and the muleteer started to pack them on one of his two horses. By six thirty we took off. The Salcantay pass is at 4,600 meters (15,091 feet) and the idea was to get there around eleven in the morning. The Britain army guys had left earlier since they were trying to avoid the midmorning heat. Onya went out quick like she was on a mission. Katie needed also a horse so Walter was with her. The rest of us walked almost together. We took some pictures of the Salcantay all covered with snow as the mist at the bottom of it made it look like an iceberg sticking out between two mountains. Salcantay means something like “Annoyed goat” in quechua. And one of the guides told me that it makes sense since this mountain has never been climbed to its peak. People who have tried have died on their intents. We started to zig-zag the pass. Walter gave us some coca leaves to chew since that is used to give you energy and battle the soroche. I chewed a couple of times but decided to go without it. I wanted to test my body reactions. None in our group chewed. My head was hurting a little as we started to hike up and we had to take several breaks before continuing. I checked my pulse often and whenever I stopped for a break I was on 108 heartbeats per minute. I felt like I had just finished a race. We carried a little stone to put it on a small pyramid as a sign of accomplishment. By ten forty five we were on the top of the pass, we saw several pyramids built by other hikers whenever they got to this stage. We took some breath, celebrated our achievement by hugging and cheering and posed in front of our pyramid for the picture. We looked around, it was not a sunny day so it was hard to see the mountain clearly but winds moved the mist a bit and we could take a glance of part of the mountain. After we ate our lunch sitting by a small river and having still some fog around we started our descent to the next campsite. There were now trees and green areas, mountains were also covered by trees and some mudslides marks. It started to get a little warmer and mosquitoes appeared forcing us to apply our repellents once more. I decided to walk at the end of the group this time enjoying the breeze and the view and going easy on my knees that were a little sore. A small noisy river run along the hike making the whole scene surreal.
By time we got to the campsite we were really tired. All these days we were going to sleep by eight.


April 26,2006
It was raining in the morning. The road was wet and muddy. Our guide Walter told us the road was very narrow and was on mountains so we had to walk carefully to avoid ending up on the river, which was about 60 meters (190 feet) down. These are roads few people walked so it can be unsteady on some parts. These roads are not Incas so there is little maintenance to them. When the rain cleared, it got sunny and humid. I have never been in more than one place where the temperatures and geography change so abruptly and so quick. Once we got to the lunch site we took our shoes and lay down on the grass, well, we did this every time we had lunch breaks. We decided to get a couple of beers since this was the only lunch stop where we had a convenience store. We saw three more groups including the British Army guys, the two that were ill were already walking better. The horses at this point were not used anymore since we had to take a cargo truck to get to the next stop. Samuel, our muleteer, had lunch with us and said goodbye. He had to come back the same way. Our lunches have been very well prepared. I thought we were going to eat sandwiches everyday since they are a lot easier to carry and prepare but to my surprise we ate soups, chicken, fish, rice, salads and fruit juice everyday. Our cook then was an expert packing and cooking on the middle of nowhere and he had everything he needed since day one. He used one horse to carry all his cooking materials: bowls, plates, utensils, glasses, cups. The muleteer used the other horse to carry the tents, sleeping bags and a big tent that was used as kitchen. We carried our own backpacks. I had, this time, only my small backpack since I had my lesson on Isla del Sol, I left the big one at the hostel in Cusco. After lunch and three beers we got in to the cargo truck, on the cargo side, and rode standing with some locals to our last campsite Santa Teresa, a small town. We were dropped by a restaurant and while the cook stayed to prepare dinner we went to the hot springs to relax. The way to get to this hot springs was very challenging. They were just building and new road so we had to cross a section with mud and rocks. We all were on flip-flops since we thought we didn’t have to hike anymore. We managed to cross with the help of some kids and once we paid for our entrance we used the rest of the evening (4-6pm) to swim and enjoy.

April 27th, 2006

I walked around Santa Teresa before taking breakfast. I saw some kids going to school and workers beginning their days. I wanted to imagine how it would be to live there, what would I do, where would I work, who would my friends be. We walked towards the river which we had to cross by sitting in a small iron-cage hanging from a cable. The river was a good 70 meters (229 feet) wide. Once you are pushed by the person who is next in line you feel kind of vulnerable watching the river underneath, with brown colors and going fast and furious. Once on the other side we walked a good four hours, we went around a damn which holds some water from the Urubamba river. It was a truck road that we took, so the road was wide and comfortable to walk on. Being so flat makes the trekking a little long, and once we got to the ferroviaria, where a train that takes people to Aguas Calientes, we had our last lunch cooked by our “chef”, Bonifacio. We were not surrounded by only nature anymore. We used a table that was on the patio of a small inn, the table had covers on, a convenience store where some other tourists bought ice cream and sodas. Several vendors were sitting also around the rail tracks selling their products. It was inevitable to realize that our hiking adventure was losing some primitive magic. We took then the route of the train, we walked on the tracks and stopped and moved one time to watch the train passed. This railroad felt longer than when we walked on the truck road but we were again on jungle area. We applied again some more repellent and we stopped to watch the Urubamba river, fast and furious, on our right side everytime we could. We got to Aguas Calientes around 4:30pm, a city that has grown with no order. There were internet stores, restaurants, hotels, artesans’ vendors all around but very clean. It is hard to recognize a local person from this city as well since there are so many tourists. The tourists usually stay one night only since they go back to Cusco after going to Machupichu. I run into some people I met in Uyuni – Bolivia. We were split then to be taken to different hostels. My room had two beds and private shower, I missed that little tent that night. We got together again at the hotel where I was and went out for some drinks before dinner, we walked around, bought some snacks for the next day and took it easy. I went to a birthday party of a tour coordinator who invited me but stayed there just for about an hour. I went to bed around ten at night to start our last day next day at four in the morning.

April 28th, 2006
I was woken up around two in the morning by the noise of a drunk guy who was vomiting at the bathroom. I went down the stairs and told him and his friend to go their room and let the rest of us sleep. They were two local guys and I still think they saw the hostel open and decide to use the guestroom. One of the group member knocked at my door at four and I dressed and then went to get breakfast. We said goodbye to our cook Bonifacio and tipped and thanked him for his great work and exquisite cuisine that we had over the past four days.
We started walking around four forty five in the morning. Flashlights on hand and bottles of water again. The bottom of this hill was about half hour from the hostel. We were the first group going and saw some local people jogging too, without flashlights. We started hiking this hill and even though we knew we were on about 2,700 meters we knew we had to get to the 3,300 in an hour and half. We knew some parts of this hill would give us an idea that we were hiking almost vertically. We didn’t take many breaks and we turned the flashlights off after about half hour of hiking. It was getting clear and we could see parts of the mountains. I didn’t know how was going to be the view of Machupichu but I tried to imagine how it was when the Incas where alive, and how it is that after so many years people still travel far, walk for days and camp in the middle of nowhere to come here. As it got clearer and we sweated more we wanted to be there, if felt like we had to hike forever, we heard some buses going up. They charge you eight US dollars to take you on this comfortable, air-conditioned bus to the entrance of Macchupichu in fifteen minutes. After one hour and ten minutes we approached the entrance. We were soaking wet, a perfect morning workout. We saw a bunch of buses coming full of people and some hikers were just getting there too. Our tour guide gave us our tickets and we entered, among the other hundreds of people into Machupichu. We all wanted to see the sunrise but it was very cloudy, we had to walk some trails before turning left and watch right in front of our eyes what that cloudy morning gave us. Mist and peace. We took pictures of some domesticated llamas. I snacked something as breakfast and just sat to wait for the mist to go away. It was around six thirty and there were hundreds of people already walking, sitting, eating, filming, waiting. Around seven the winds blew and we started to see the shape of the Huaynapichu, the mountain behind Machupichu, which has been the center of millions of postcards around the world and since its discovery in 1,911. Walter explained some simple facts about this place. We took the rest of the morning to walk around, touch the walls and try to fantasize about the way people lived here on the fourteen hundreds. The architecture is almost perfect, the way the stones were cut, carved and allocated in such a way that it has remained almost intact for all these years. The many centers, entrances, animal sacrifices centers, praying centers, agriculture area, all this on top of these mountains. The Intiwatana, the center where a stone was located in such way that the Incas could tell the time of the year to calculate harvest time based on the shadow this stone would give based on the position of the sun. Some of group decided to climb the Huanapichu, I stayed walking around and watching this magnificent picture. Green mountains, the sound of the river and the clicking of cameras. If the time machine existed, this will be the second place I would like to visit to check the lifestyle of its habitants.

This is the second time I have come to Machupichu, but this time was the way I always wanted to do it: by walking. The parties in the clubs and the ruins on the rest of the city, which is beautiful and has plenty of history, was not the main intention of my visit to Cusco. If I have one complaint it would be the expensive prices of the tours and the many agencies that there are on this town. I think the differences of what a local and a foreign tourist pay is also ridiculous, this comes along with the treatment people get. The tourist is usually overcharged or ‘robbed’ while the local pays less but it is treated very poorly. I alone decided to take the local train back to Cusco but I had to go standing in a wagon that was oversold. I had to give space to people that wanted to go to the bathroom and to the lady who was selling snacks up and down since I was right on the alley. Gringos have to pay ten times more than cholos for a comfortable wagon….simply ridiculous

Cusco.

"Hostel, trekking, Inca Trail, how long are you staying?" was what these young men shouted as I and the other tourists arrived to the bus terminal in Cusco. The bus ride was very pleasant and it feels like you are about to go on an unforgetable experience when you get to this old city. The Imperial City, they call it because it was the main city of the Inca Empire. The city where all of the world comes to walk or bus or train to the Macchupicchu, the mysterious city built by the Incas about seven hundred years ago with huge stones, on the altitude, away from the city, an agricultural center. Cusco, Macchupichu and the Inca trail form, definetely, a whole package for a tourist. Cusco, a modern city but is so rich in history. You can see Inca architecture and you also see Spaniard architecture on top of the incas´ buildings. This has a message, the message of the Spaniards "conquering" the Incas. Macchupichu, a calm and amazing city, a wonder of this world, a place where you want to try to explain how the Incas built this perfect place where everybody lived in harmony. So they say. The Inca Trail, a five day hike which has its highest point at 4,200 meters (13,700 feet) above sea level , a trail that was used by the Incas on their time and makes you fantasize about that era, and which ends at the climbing to the Machupichu.
The city of Cusco though has been invaded with tourist agencies, small and big restaurants, coffee shops, night clubs and pubs (huge parties at nights), and the mix of tourists (about 1,000 per day) and locals makes the city look unique. You also have local people, and often from other parts of Peru, working offering "anything" you want. It gets a little annoying when you walk on the streets and people that work on restaurants or tourists agencies pull you in to their stores to sell you something, but if you simply ignore them then you can walk away.
My idea was to trek but after visiting several tourist agencies I found out the Inca Trail needed to be reserved two months earlier. There are about five hundred people walking this trail everyday so they need to control and make this route safe for everybody. Of course, tourists can not spend two months in Cusco or come back whenever there is a spot for the Inca Trail, so the people like me that didn´t reserve in advance has other alternatives. Salcantay, Lares, two day Inca trail, all of them having the final point in Machupichu. They told me the Salcantay hike was a little hard, five day hike, camping, river crossing through cables, 4, 600 meters (15,091 feet) of altitude at its highest point, descent to the jungle and finally, on the last day, walk up for an hour to Machupichu before sunrise. Sold! The price 145 USD, transportation and food included, also the hostel accomodation the final night since the town of Aguas Calientes has no place to camp.
On sunday, one day before of going trekking, I decided to visit another uncle, Luis, who lives in Calca, a town one hour away of Cusco. Before reaching to Calca I stopped in Pisaq. Pisaq has a huge artesan market on sundays so I got off there and walked around. Typical ponchos , chuyos (those hats made of alpaca hair which are very warm and covers your ears as well), ceramics, food. I also witnessed one thief being brougth to the police station. The artesans go really hard on these guys since they take away business by scaring tourists away. I don´t buy stuff when I travel but like to walk around these places. Food is what I buy so I got some boiled corn. The kernels of these choclos (as the corn is called in Peru) are huge. http://www.perutravels.net/peru-travel-guide/art-gastronomy-corn.htm I continued then to Calca and stayed for the rest of the day with my uncle who knew I was coming because I left a message on his answering machine the night before. He doesn´t like to answer the phone. But he loves to talk about all sort of things since he is an oil and watercolor painter and used to travel around the mountains of Peru looking for good material to paint.
I went back to Cusco and didn´t go out that night since I was still a little tired from the night before when I went out and went back to the hostel around five in the morning. Besides I wanted to be fresh for the beginning of my five day hike next morning.

Little by little.

Puno is one of those cities on the south of Peru that few people go. I believe the main attraction was Uros. Several islands that are made of straws. You have to take a boat to this place and you see about three or four families living on each island. They are artesans. There is also a elementary school were three teachers are from Uros and two of them commute everyday from Puno. The first night in Chucuito was spent talking with my uncle Juan. I ate trout for the third time that day. He has been involved with communities work for several years so I was just listening to his and his friends´ stories. Next day he showed me around some inca and spaniard ruins. There are some walls made by the Spaniards on 1,780 (I know because the year was also noted on this walls). They look like they are about to fall which is a shame since the conservation of these ruins has not been the best. He, my uncle Juan, has also rescued some stones that he found while building his hostel. It is very interesting to see and know about this but you need to be a person that is very attracted by this type of things and i am not too involved on it. I find it amazing though that I am touching stones that were worked and used six hundred years ago. He took me also to what is called now the fertility temple, but he calls it an invention for the tourists. He says he has gained a lot of enemies in this town of Chucuito for those theories. "But you have tell it like it is" he says. He doesn´t agree that these fallic stones were use to bring luck or it should be used to bring luck to women to get pregnant. http://www.frommers.com/destinations/punoandlaketiticaca/2880027673.html They were symbols of fertility but not in the way this tourist guides mention. There were once part once of walls and now are planted on this field to increase tourism to the area. http://www.llamatravel.com/photo.cfm?photoid=98
I also went to Uros. I suggested the rest of the group to take a little ride on one of the big boats built with straws. I could also see some of the kids rowing small boats after school.
Later on I visited the Yaviri ship This ship is being worked to navigate again and take people, specially tourists, on trips around the lake. It is an english boat that was brought in pieces to the Lake on the 1,800s. By the end of the dayI went out around the plaza and calle Lima. There were several pubs and clubs open. I decided then to go to some of them and talk to the bartenders and/or owners of these bars. There are a lot of bartenders who flirt with the pretty tourists, others try to get some information as to get what is that they are looking for. I was advised to leave my drink on the table. There have been cases when they put something in the drinks and they you ended up in some hotel without your money. It apparently is something to be careful in tourists places in Peru. I say apparently cause even though I was raised here until I was eighteen I haven,t been exposed to those type of situations for a while so I sometimes assume that everything is cool. But little by little a remember or I just make sure I take my drink everywhere I go.

Peru and Family

As I took the "colectivo" (a station wagon who serves as taxi but to several people, the fee ride is shared among the passengers so it is cheaper than a taxi) my mind was just remembering the days I spent in Bolivia. It was two days short of being a month. To my right the Titicaca lake, still shining and amazing, it gave me a sense that this lake was infinite that it is everywhere. The ride took about fifteen minutes. People from Puno and Copacabana have similar features so I didn´t know if I was travelling with Peruvians or Bolivians. Peru has a lot of people with different backgrounds. People from Japanese, Chinese, Italian, Spaniard, African, etc descents which may confuse anyone including a mere Peruvian. Of course there are the people who look like the Peruvian ancestors, the Inkas, shorter and dark, with straight hair, who makes the majority of the population. But if I may add something, all Peruvians look different but the fact of being born on this land makes it just that : a Peruvian . We all forget where our ancestors came from and a black Peruvian feels as Peruvian as a Peruvian with Chinese background, or Spaniard or anything. It is very, very rare to find a Peruvian who specifies where his /her origins are from. That I like. Of course I also have to add, there is a bigger difference when we talk about social classes, and that brings a whole different issue, which the Peruvian feels more affected by than his/her racial background.
I was dropped at the Bolivian side, Khasani, at the immigration office. They stamped my passport with the "exit" stamp, I walked out about 30 feet and exchanged my Bolivianos for Soles (8 Bolivianos= 3.30 soles= 1 US Dollar) a the store of a man who was also selling chocolates and sodas. I walked then about 200 yards, on an empty road, looking still at the Titicaca Lake, and I saw ahead the Peruvian flag, three vertical stripes, two red on each side and a white one in the middle, waving at the top of a pole. I went ahead then and after getting my passport stamped I took a tricycle, which is the taxi system in this small town of Yunguyo. There are few cars, I imagine a environmentalist would love this place. The gentleman dropped me at one corner where the bus to Puno was heading. I decided to walk a little but seeing the bus almost full I decided to walk back knowing that it will take a lot of time filling out the next bus, which is also the "departure time" on this small towns.
The Titi caca lake was still there, waiting for sunset time. The geography in this part of Peru was similar to the one I saw in Bolivia anytime I was in a bus. The main difference I noticed was that the houses, made mainly of adobe with a type of strong straws were a little more spread out. There were more land and some stores, built with the same material were also painted with graffiti about the presidential elections that are being held now in Peru. The final day will be June 4 between the two finalists: Ollanta Humala and Alan Garcia.
After three hours on the road, I told the driver I was getting of in Chucuito, a small town twenty minutes south of the city of Puno, where the Inca culture also lived in the 1,300´s and where the Spaniards also were present on the 1,500´s to convert the Incas to Catholicism.
I walked towards Las Cabañas, a hostel who belongs to an uncle of mine. This entrance to Peru was the beginning of a different reason for being in Peru. Tourism and visits to family.

Ready to hike

The next day on Isla del Sol, Yasu (yes I had his name wrong on the last entry) and I woke up at sunrise, got breakfast and started to walk at 8:00 am towards the south area of the island. A couple of people told us it would take us about two and a half hours to get there, take the boat at 10:30 am for one and a half hours and be at Copacabana at noon to kill time and lunch and take the 1:30pm bus to Puno-Peru to be there at 5:00pm. Of course we thought about taking pictures and stopping in some ruins. Some of the Tiawanaku ruins. Yes this people were here too. We said thank you and goodbye to Fidel. Yasu was with a little hangover since we drank two beers the night before after our unsuccesful search for a TV to watch the football match. I mentioned altitude has a stronger effect on our bodies when we put it through some normal routines, alcohol feels stronger, digestion is slower so we can not eat as much as we usually do, and it is preferable to eat fruits and drink lots of fluids, and the short of breath can cause headaches, vomiting and dizziness. All this is known as altitude sickness or SOROCHE (so-roh-sheh). There are now some soroche pills. And depending on our bodies and health state the soroche affect us differently. So this lake http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/South_America/Bolivia/Things_To_Do-Bolivia-BR-4.html which is situated at 3,800 meters (12,467 feet) above sea level will definetely has its way with us. After walking for two hours and checking the most we could of the 115 miles length of this lake from the top of the island we discovered we were running behind. Yasu, fell a couple of times, since he had a bad stomach as well. We realized that we were to miss the boat that would take us back to Copacabana. Our big mistake, or perhaps our big adventure, was to carry all of our 60 pounds of luggage on our backs and fronts. We took several breaks and changed shirts since we were soaking wet because of the heat. The good thing is that it is dry weather. We run into several other walkers going on the opposite direction, but apparently they were just going from the south area to the north as a matter of checking the island and with no weight whatsoever. My shoulders were in pain and Yasu was looking as pale as a piece of paper. He told me to go on, but I refused. We started together, we´ll finish together i said. Once we got to the top of the south area we had to go down and pretended our legs were still fresh to support our weight. We made it down and dropped everything we had on. Yasu collapsed and laid down on the small pier. It was noon, and we had missed the last boat of the morning by half hour. A man offered us to take us for 4 times the price we would normally have paid. Thinking that we would have to pay for lodging if we waited for the next boat at three pm and be in Puno next day we accepted, the numbers added up to the same. We took the boat, the only two in it were us and the captain. Yasu, decided to go back to la Paz since he was feeling very sick. His yoga drills he exercised on the boat during the ride had no effect. He then, took the next bus and I decided to get another fried trout by the beach looking at the this lake again. Immense. Later i got my feet wet in the cold lake and then took the van at 3pm which would take me to the border with Peru, hoping that the immigration office was still open. Goodbye Bolivia.

Isla del Sol

My friend Gonzalo woke up at six in the morning to hug each other goodbye and left to work. It must have been the wednesday after the Holly week (Semana Santa) , I have lost the sense of days. Everyday is a good day. I took a look at the mountains of this city built between mountains and straight to the bus terminal to LAke Titikaka. We waited then, as is usual here, until the van was full of passengers. People may complain but it is a norm. Maybe that´s one of the reason why people look like they have all the time of the world. Others say is the altitude that makes people walk slow since they need to take small steps in order not to get tired to quickly. In any rate, as we rode for about two hours, this huge lake appeared. I didn´t expect it to be this attractive. There are points on which you don´t see the other side. I heard that once but it is different when you see it, when you are there. Times like this makes me wanting to have a compass so I can have an idea where I am, at least a sense of orientation. We got to Tiquina, a very small town where we had to got off the van and take a boat to cross a part tof the lake. There is another boat, the ferry, the takes the van by itself. We continued then to Copacabana the town from where I would go to Isla del Sol (Sun Island). As soon as I got to Copacabana I look for something to eat, but seeing around, and finding it very touristy again I decided to get some cancha (fried corn) and continued to get a boat, a local boat, to go to Isla del Sol. This was a boat made out of wood, local people were going to the island and apparently someone was moving out there. The boat was about to take off so knowing that I wouldn´t know how long it would take to fill out the next one, I decided to jump in with my sixty pounds of backpacks and go to the roof where another traveller, from Japan, was. This colourful boat took about ten minutes to leave so we were on the way to this island which the only thing I knew about was that it was in the middle (at least on the Bolivian side) of this magnificent lake. The ride took another one hour and a half. I want sometimes get there ´on time´but what is that anyways when you are travelling and have nowhere to go or everywhere to go? As the days have been passing by I wonder of the size and time I need to go to more places. It will take a lifetime. Feeling the breeze on the lake, watching the clouds that look like cotton balls, talking to Yaku, the Japenese friend and trying to guess what goes on the minds of the tens of people on this boat we got to the south zone of the island. Here, I saw a bunch of tourists seating by the beach, eating or drinking, waiting for the next boat perhaps. Somebody from the boat, what it looked to be another foreign to these lands, run to his hostel and run back to the boat. Yaku and I asked the people around us if the north side of the island had hostels as well. We decided then to continue after getting an afirmative answer. So another hour on the boat, this time a little colder and breezier. We met Fidel on the boat, he told us he had a hostel and a restaurant. We verbally booked our room with two beds and once on the north side we walked a couple of meters to drop our things. The people moving to the island stayed on the central side of the island and we, as everyone else, helped the family and friends to unload the boat.
We ate a trout with rice and salad and went on to walk to the next town on the island, Challa. We were trying to get a place where they had a TV since we wanted to watch a football match between a Bolivian and Argentinian teams. The Copa Libertadores, which is the SouthAmerican version of the Champions League in Europe. We walked to Challa until sunset and when we got there nobody had a TV. At least, no reception, so we decided to walk back after getting some batteries for our flashlights. On the way to Challa I had paid attention to the road since there were similar roads and we didn´t want to get lost under the stars. Kirei (beatiful) said Yaku, as we looked up every twenty steps to see the stars above us. The sky looked like a infinite black sheet of paper with millions of white dots. The same way as I used to wet my toothbrush with watercolors and spray it on a coloured paper.

La Paz

I thought going back to Cochabamba after Sucre but decided to go straight to La Paz. A good friend of mine, Gonzalo, was waiting for me. I went with him to Florida International University and we kept our friendship. I stayed in his house so besides saving some money I got to experience his daily life and the way a non-tourist lives. La Paz has a lot of things, besides from the big hills like the Illimani, a huge snowed mountain that can be seen from anywhere in La PAz, there is also the Tiawanaku ruins. This was one of the things I enjoyed the most. Since I was a kid in elementary school i was surprised by this pre-inca culture (1500 BC to 1200 AC) which we studied in our Peruvian History class, but I was a little disapointed when I found out that the big ´Puerta del Sol´(Sun gate) was in Bolivia and not in Peru. But it was a blast to finally be there and take a picture of it. Its name , Sun Gate, is not just a name it was used to calculate the seasons of the year so it could be applied to agriculture. After visiting the ruins, we went to the small town of Tiawanaku. They a parade for some saint since it was Good Friday, Gonzalo and I decided to get a beer afterward and were a little nervous and skeptical of getting them since on good fridays alcochol is prohibited on cities and town like these ones. The lady didn´t think twice and invited us to her store to drink the beers. When we were done and the procession was too, we saw everybody carrying boxes and boxes of beer. Our stupid, embedded, catholic guilt was erased in a second.
I went also to the museum of Coca in la Paz and took the ´touching the sky´tour, which takes you to several spots in La Paz. The open roof of this bus allowed me to watch the blue skies and breath the air. The tourist group was also warned not to get up from their seats. I soon found out the bridges and electrical cables were not to high for this bus, or for our heads, if that can give a better picture. I stayed five days in La Paz also because I decided to get a handmade coat. I don´t get myself things when I travel but this leather coat I like. We went out almost everynight. I think that happens whenever you know a local and you are in a big city. I run into several other travellers I met on other cities before getting to Bolivia. We said to get together but it never happened. For this week I didn´t feel like i was travelling. It is funny how I sensed everything different since I was with a good old friend and I didn´t have to worry about where to go or hang out.
Next stop will be the Lake Titicaca. This highest lake on the world which is shared between Peru and Bolivia.

Residents of Sucre

After visiting Potosi I went to Sucre http://www.boliviaweb.com/cities/sucre.htm. Sucre is a warmer city since it is only at 2,750 meters (9,022 feet) above sea level and not 4,070 (13,053) as Potosi is. I thought spending about two days there but I stayed four nights. Walking through the cities after busing for hours has become a norm. I walked into hostels to find out prices and availability. This is the way I am travelling after I left Salvador-Brasil on March 9. I still think one day I will be spending the night on a park or something since I don´t reserve any rooms before. Sucre is the city where the Spaniard virreynatos (colonies) started to plan their independence from Spain on the 1,700´s. I visited the Casa Libertad and learned a little bit more about the Pacific war between Bolivia-Peru against Chile. The result, Bolivia loosing its access to the Pacific Ocean in 1879. Something its new president is battling now to get back from Chile. Another interesting site was also the dinosaur treks. You take a bus on the main plaza and ride for twenty minutes until you get to these marks left by those animals some million years ago. I guess I stayed longer because I met some interesting people in the hostel. They are residing in Sucre for some time of their lives. I went with one of them, Katherine, to a girls´orphanage, where she volunteers some days. We helped read and watched the girls practice some music performance they were preparing for the children´s day. One of these girls was picked up from the streets a year ago, she couldn´t even talk. She was six, at least that´s what the ladies who worked there guess. The little girl speaks now and likes to read books, or at least to watch the pictures. She always wanted me to go back to a page where she saw a boy being helped by a doctor. "Doctor, niño, enfermo (sick)" she said. I just wondered how this little girl lived before being in this orphenage. Apparently she is happy to be there and enjoys being with other older girls. The other guys from the hostel are studying Spanish, and they always wanted me to speak in Spanish so they could practice. One of them is practicing Capoeira (Brasilian martial arts/dance), another learning how to play guitar and yet another one is also preparing a documentary about kids who live on the streets of Sucre. I felt like knowing more about these guys´lives but I wanted also to walk around the city and go to different museums and sightseeing spots to check the sunsets. I tend to start very energetic on museums but then, when I have read some of the signs, I get tired and forget what I read at the beginning of my visit. I prefer, then, to walk around and check people doing their daily routines, and seeing old houses. I also saw some "tourists" teaming up with some kids to entertain with acrobatic acts, like playing with three balls, at the stop lights to get some tips from the drivers. This I found of bad taste since the street´s kids did it because it is the only thing they think they can do to get something to eat, the "tourists" who apparently decided to stay in Sucre, since they didn´t look like new arrived tourists, did it, I think (but I could be wrong) to "experience" a new life, to feel different. Perhaps these "foreign acrobats" can help kids like the little girl at the orphanage, to learn a new language, or read or play with them. But we all do what we want with our own time.

The Mines in Potosi

I departed to Potosi after getting money and controlling the swelling with ice on my head. Potosi is cited as the highest city on the whole world, 4,070 meters (13,350 feet) above see level. The main attraction here is the silver mine which dates to 1,530´s where the Spaniards exploited the natives to extract silver and send it to Spain. I met two english guys on the bus and we decided to look for a hostel together. So for 60 bolivianos per day we had a room with four beds. Of course we are picking the cheapest places so a room will only have the beds, blankets and light. The bathroom is outside and it is to be shared with the rest of the travellers. When talking to the english men, we found also a little strange that the locals got sick when taking the buses to these highlands and also due to many turns, ups and downs. So, as a rule I am carrying also plastic bags in my pockets. I don´t know when I will be a victim. The same night of arrival, monday 3 of April at 4 pm, we started looking for a tour that take us next day to the mines. After visiting four offices we picked the one on which the tour guide was a former miner and the maximum number of visitors to the mine were just 10. I have been carrying my coat I used in Seattle and even though I always thought it was very uncomfortable to carry, and also it made feel very hot anytime I saw it hanging in my closet in Brazil, it was perfect for this cold city which temperatures ranges between 2 and 17 celsius (36 and 63 Farenheit). Next day the regional bus system was on strike. They are protesting because the government now is mandating them to pay taxes. So we had to walk catching our breath every ten steps towards the van that was taking us to the mine. Once by the entrance of the mine, our guide told us to ´cooperate´with the miners by bringing them coca leaves, cigarretes, waters, soda, and dynamite for their jobs. We all bought all these needs for the miners who get paid very low (1,000 bolivianos per month). I found the tour guide to get a little political when mentioning the way foreign companies come and exploit the workers and taking all the money for them. That because the silver went down on the market the poor miners are now in jeopardy of loosing their jobs. He was not able to answers questions like what is the life of this mine now, or who pay the miners after all. Our former miner guide was not able to identify some stones he picked up. We were a little skeptical about his background. But, what do I know about mining, I assume it could be hard to tell what minerals are in a rock just by looking at it.
It was definetely an experience that made me see how some people can work under bad conditions. We gave what we bought to the miners as they passed by. Inside they were about six detonations which made all of us have thoughts of being trapped in this dark and cold cave. Good thing we were using helmets since I hit my head several times. We also went down about fifteen meters (49 feet) down to see how a couple of miners were drilling a new spot they found. One of the visitors complained since he found it dangerous to go down to that level while miners were still drilling. The dust was also heavy but we had bought some masks to protect ourselves.
At the end of the visit, which last about two hours, our tour guide detonated some dynamite. We also thought that 40 meters (131 feet) from the detonations were not too safe. In any rate and after battling with a dog that felt invaded when passing by its owner house we thought the visit to the mine was more of trekking experience more that informative. It is for sure something not to miss.

Look up

Bolivia is cheap, specially when it comes to food. The currency, el Boliviano, is one-eight of a US dollar. I try to avoid turistic places, for the prices, yes I may be a cheap bastard, but the food is even better in a small Bolivian restaurant. For lunch I can spend 8 bolivianos, and I get a small appetizer, chicken soup and as a third plate rice, salad, meat and potatoes. Can you beat that? Now if you want to be a little bit more adventurous you can go the local market and sit on a very small bench next to market, construction workers and drivers and eat for 5 bolivianos. I am very used to pay everything in cash now, since these restaurants and markets don´t take cards. This could be a nigthmare for a ´modern´tourist, but I haven´t run into any of those, at least here in Bolivia. I was lucky though, in Uyuni, when I run out of cash and I realized the town didn´t have any ATM machines I found one restaurant who took cards. Of course, I paid for the price too, the menu...pizza. The only Bolivians in the restaurant, the waiters. The place was full of tourists. I met the nephew of this restaurant´s owner, and I was lucky again that after talking with him for a while and telling him about my cashless situation he told me his aunt could give me some cash advance with my credit card, for a fee. I had used my last reserves to pay for the hostel, and it was a good thing also that I won a bet with the Australian couple. 10 bolivianos was of great help. The bet, guess how much time would it take to get to the town of Uyuni just by looking at the city lights. This was when we were coming back from the 3 day-tour to the selars.
The next day banks in Uyuni were open (monday 3 of April) so I was able to balance my situation. I had to mentioned also that in my way to the bank i was a little annoyed that somebody at the hostel stole my towel I bought in Rio de Janeiro. It was my only souvenir, so I was looking down as I was walking when I banged my head against an Internet store sign. I run to a restaurant to get breakfast and get some ice to calm the bleeding. It wasn´t bad but it made forget about the towel incident, that is for sure. The message after that: ALWAYS LOOK UP ON YOUR LIFE, NO MATTER WHAT. Inspiration from a painful moment.

To La Paz

I will be leaving to la Paz in a hour. 6 pm local time. Sucre has been great. I stayed more than I thought. I will be writing a bit more about Sucre but it is sometimes difficult to sit and write on a computer while the whole city keeps functioning behind you.
Check other pictures I put on my other blog: www.seismesesminimo.blogspot.com you can practice your Spanish too. The stories I write on the blogs are not identical but similar and as I thought once, perhaps the pictures can be a universal language we all can understand...and interpret.

Fotos_Bolivia

Santa Cruz - March 22


Cochabamba


Cochabamba - Not a normal rain.


Oruro Traffic



Church in Oruro

Players

After spending three days on a tour that takes you to the Uyuni Selar, this incredible 12 square Kilometer of salt fields, the rock that looks like a three, the gaysers at 14,900 feet above see level, the llamas and vicuñas crossing our truck path which made us very nervous, our first night on a hostel made of salt and a relaxing bath on the hot springs (75 Farenheit) at 7am with an outside temperature of 0 degrees celsius (30 degrees Farenheit) and having a snow mountain as curtain and meeting the Swiss man who was biking these territories I decided to stay in the town of Uyuni. This city is located at 12,400 feet above sea level and make the breathing a little heavy when you walk. But I couldn´t take off from this place without having the experience of playing a little ball. I found a small coliseum which is opened for the locals to play. I talked to some other tourists at the hotel, Irish and Israelis, and we put a team together to play against some Bolivians who run without getting tired. We played on a small field, ´fulbito´as it is known, only 5 players on each side. We had subs, they didn´t, and they still managed to take the game. 13-11 was the final score. You score a lot since the field is smaller and everything is a lot faster. BUt it was a fun to play and feel the short of breath.
Uyuni is the third city in Bolivia; first Santa Cruz, clean and safe; Cochabamba, which is on my list as a place where you need to have an eye on the back of your head to be careful. I must say though that I was almost robbed on the most folcloric way, and having the eye behind my head didn´t help. It took me a little bit to wake up from this experience on which three men, working together, took me almost on a taxi pretending that one was a just arrived tourist like myself, who approched me to look for a hostel together, I accepted. The second player stopped us a few yards from we were walking simulating an uncovered policeman looking for some tourists carrying dynamite. This was smartly put since two days before an American man and an Uruguayan woman put a bomb in La Paz, here in Bolivia. The second man insisted that I and the other ´tourist´should go to the hostel from where he received the call about possible suspects and then to the police station. I don´t how I managed to take my passport from his hands and while he made a fake call to his captain he stopped a taxi and demanded to get in. The other ´tourist´was very cooperative:¨"Whatever you say officer". I, to the contrary had a funny feeling about all this. I chose, at the beginning, to trust the first guy since my last experience with the guy who wanted to stay on our wagon on the train of death. But now my stomach and hands were cold and the feeling was not good at all. I told him that if he wanted he could check my back-packs right there on the street. I took a couple of steps back and the third guy showed up showing me also his police credentials. This third player got very close to my face but still jumped in to the car with the other two. They took off, I hesitated to take the next taxi, thinking it could be the fourth player, I took the next one and told him just to drive around to look for a hostel. He dropped me not too far, and when I told the owner of this place about this he confirmed they were thieves. That day, it rained like it hasn´t rained in years in Cochabamba, as the locals told me. So I used it to sleep. Even though this incident happened, I enjoyed walking around, having flashbacks when passing by the same street, meeting a group of four young guys who opened a bar on one of the afluent areas of Cochabamba. A different way to make money, I thought. I heard later other examples of people being taken on taxis with the same or similar excuse to be later on taken to a house and rob every single thing on their bags.
Oruro was the next city, and I was late to take the train to Uyuni so I had to stay one day. The lady of the hostel told me about some hot springs, Obrajes, so after waiting on the van for about an hour, since the van needed to be full before taking off to destination, I, and the other few pàssengers where taken, by a small woman, to a taxi which was going to the hot springs. This time, I didn´t have any funny feelings, or cold stomach and hands. I followed the group, got into the taxi, and off we were. The taxi driver was a little nervous since he thought the van driver could come around and do something to him. The cabby had stolen the van´s passengers after all. Once at Obrejos, I used the pool and the bath, I can´t recall having been more relaxed before in my life.
The train was scheduled to depart at seven pm to Uyuni, at the arrival next day at 7 am. I bought the tour for the three days. This time, the team had 6 players. Germany, Switzerland, Australia, Peru-USA and the Bolivian driver.

your way

The train took off slowly and we were still puttin our bags on the top shelf. Good thing this shelves were big enough to put all our belongings. As we moved forward the agents asked us to pay, after making some additions and multiplications I was in charge of collecting the money and pay the agent. I made a little table to remember who I owed and who owed me since we all didn´t have the exact change for the 138 Bolivianos (6 bolivianos per 1 US$). The agent joked with us as to where we were all from and he meticulously wrote our names and passport numbers on the ticket. We were about 15 minutes on the road and we had our first stop, I was still being the perfect tourist filming my friends, as well as the vegetation outside and dogs walking outside by the railroads when suddenly a whole army of food, fruits, water and bread vendors showed up...It was a parade of unexpected visitors calling their products to atract the attention of their potential customers. I must said I was caught by surprise. The chicken, rice and salad looked very good so we decided to get them. 3 bolivianos each. That was the first of several stops this train was to make for the 22 hours ahead of us so after this one we knew what was coming and we managed to control our apetite for the following stops. We knew we will have wagon services on all our stops.
It rained on and off for the next three hours which made the agents run to close the windows everytime. The seats didn´t get wet but the wagon rapidly got hot and we started to sweat. Then the rain would stop again and everything was back to normal. Guy managed to fall sleep, Rebeca was writing her journal, I was taking some pictures and trying to see any weird animals through the windows. Butterflies, woodpeckers, that I only could hear, bee nests, some skinny birds, Bryony decided to go to the last wagons to check them out. HOurs later she told me to go to see some of the people she had met there. We got to those wagons and the experience was so different. There kids sleeping right on the alley. We had to be careful no to step on them, the seats were just one big bench on each side. They were used by some of the travellers as beds. I couldn´t believe how people could travel under those conditions. I felt like I was in a luxury section when I saw all this. I don´t know how much they paid for them but I labeled it as inhuman. But I guess this is the best they know, or it is all they can afford but I imagine there has to be a way to improve that. I guess time will tell.
I have to admit though that I had a mixed feelings about these passengers. Three of the friends Bryony met were Peruvians. They were travelling on the very last wagon. After talking to them for a while Bryony told them to come to where we were to visit. One of them showed up after a couple of hours. He and Bryony talked for a while but then I thought he really wanted to spend the night on our cart. It was then when I had this ´capitalist´ outburst. I am paying more to travel here. And it was not that I care if he stayed or not but I thought he was using the connection with us, and more with Bryony, to stay. I have been wrong many times and perhaps I was reading this the wrong way again. Bryony was not too happy with my comment and attitude. It was then when I realized that I sometimes can have noble ideas and want better treatment for people but this episode was a little disturbing. I always think I should get for what I pay.

That was the reason...maybe

Taking the last Caipirinhas and Caipiroscas in Corumbá was satisfying. After that long ride it was better to take a shower, get some beers and good dinner. 4 bucks for 5 big pieces of grill meat, rice, salad and yuca. This last is really good. It is kind of a potato but white and it grows long. You have to boil it to eat. You can always fried after you boil it if you wish and can add some garlic and salt. Good stuff. Next morning after getting frustrated at my luck, I was the first one up of the group and the last one ready, only because I decided to go to the bathroom downstairs and the lady who worked there took the longest bath ever. I, sometimes, run to the second floor to see if it was available but anytime I got there it was someone using it. I couldn´t time properly. After venting with my trip partners we walked the 8 blocks to the immigration office, got our passports stamped with no problems and came back to town to wrap things up and go to the border. We were ready at 9:45 am and we wanted to take the 7pm train. There is one at noon but it has no AC and gets to Santa Cruz - Bolivia next day at 9 am. We also knew the tickers for the one 7 sold fast so we wanted to pick our stuff and go the Bolivia as soon as possible and make time over there.
We missed the 9:45am bus to the border so we stayed at the bus stop until 10:30, for the next one. To our surprise the 10:30 bus showed up,dropped to passengers and took off right on our faces. I run, screamed, whistled and banged the bus rear. Nada. I still don´t know why the driver didn´t take us. I used again the portuguese i was studying in Salvador for the whole month of February and got a taxi to take us to the border. 15 reais compare to 7 that all would have paid if taking the bus. But of course a lot faster by taxi. Our surprise was even bigger when we got to the train station and our relief sensation turned into desperation and a little bit of preocupation when we found out there were no more tickets to the 7pm train. We rapidly run to the second floor after being told that the noon train, the Expreso del Oriente, was about to take off. We had no choice, we didn´t want to wait another day so we gave our passports for identification and were conducted to a wagon. We were about to take the so called ´Train of Death´ they say people used to travel on the roof of this train and many would fall dying on the ground with the impact.
The fact is that we were about to ride this train for 21 hours,with no AC, something that I am already very use to when I travel for more that two ours, unless I am driving. But considering the temperatures here, AC is quasi a must. At least we were on our way to SAnta Cruz, perhaps that was the reason the bus to the border didn´t pick us up. If we took it, we wouldn´t have been able to depart that day from Corumbá

Decisions

The idea, once getting to Corumbá, was to get a train ticket to Santa Cruz-Bolivia at 7Pm to get there Wednesday at 8 am. The immigration office was closed when we arrived to the station. They told us, you can leave the country without the éxit´stamp on your passport but chances are the next time you come to Brasil you may be sent back. So since we all wanted to be in good standards with this nation, and we knew, since we found out from two Bolivians, that the train departs on tuesdays and Thursdays at 4pm not at 7pm as it does on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, that we couldn´t leave town, we decided to stay and spend our last night on this small, very clean town of Brasil as the last city of our time on this country. It was a little difficult to make the decision of where to stay. Close to the immigration office or near downtown. The Bolivians suggested to go to the border in Bolivia, where everything was a lot cheaper and then come back to the office for the stamp. The guy from Bolivia was waving his hand from the bus and told us to come up, his face showed a little bit of annoyance that we were taking so long on decide something that shouldn´t be a brainer. Go for the cheapest. This option of course meant to cross to Bolivia and then come back to Brasil. So, wasn´t that already leaving Brasil without an exit stamp? This unclear situation made us change our minds and ask the driver of this bus to take our back-packs from the bus. The Bolivian guy, moved his head like in disagreement when I took a quick glance to the bus. We all thought too that maybe we wouldn´t saved that much since paying for taxis to come back to Corumbá would have made the total amount spent maybe equal. But the most meaningful reason was that pshycologically we wanted to ´leave´Brasil for good, at least for this trip, so coming back the next day just to get a stamp was not to good of a feeling. A guy, of many, offered us to come to his hostel. These hostel workers are like bees, as soon as you get off the bus they are looking at you and want you to come with them to their hotels or hostels. Others offer you trips to the Pantanal or other touristic places. So you have to diplomatically, or sometimes, abruptly tell them to stay back or to wait a couple of minutes. I guess we took a lot of time deciding so many of them got tired an left, only one stayed so we went with him. Persistance of this young fellow I guess. He had a van parked on the parking lot a few feet from where we were. We got in and drove us about 8 blocks to the hostel. 10 reais ($5 US)per night, breakfast included. Sold!

Good bye Rio

I went to stadium Maracana Monday morning of March 20. They have pictures of the most current and old football (soccer)players of this nation which is the only one in the world with 5 World Championships of this sport, the most popular sport on this planet. They already have shirts rooting for the sixth title this year in Germany. They have a replica of the ´Walk of stars´in Hollywood but with the foot prints of Pele, Zico, Didi, Bebeto and many more. I assume Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Roberto Carlos will print theirs when they retire. This stadium for 180,000+ people is one of the most known in the world. It is the witness of Brazil loosing to Uruguay on the 1950 World Cup final and it was also in 1971, I believe, where Pele scored his goal number 1,000 on the last game he played for retirement but wearing the shirt of Santos, the club he started as a 16 year old professional player years before. I decided to go the Maracana since I like football and also I couldn´t make it to the game the day before between Vasco and Flamengo. I missed the game because I thought the game was at 6pm but it was at 4pm. I didn´t mind too much since I was hanging out with Bryony on the Copacabana beach since 2pm. We decided to go to Copacabana after getting our bus tickets to Corumba, the border between Bolivia and Brasil. I was buying my ticket and she recognized me from the hostel. I was half awake since I had decided to go to the beach after partying the whole night. I was afraid of sleeping too late at the hostel so when I made it back at 7:30 am Sunday morning I had breakfast, put my shorts and took the bus to the beach Leblon. After being at the beach for 3 hours, sleeping, I went to the station and it was then when I run into Bryony, who is from England, and was also debating where to go next. I decided to leave Brasil since my other option was to go to Falls of Iguaçu but they say the best view of the falls is from Argentina so I thought, for my next trip, when I go to Argentina I will go to the falls. She then decided to go to Corumba as well.Then we took another bus back to Ipanema, the so well know beach in Rio de Janeiro. Big beaches, tiny bikinis, big buildings along the shore, small rocky islands on the ocean. No wonder it is so famous and popular for tourists. Being there was a feeling of relaxation. A beach is a beach but being in Ipanema is something more because the name is so heard of. Relaxed is the best word I can pick, getting a beer from one of the vendors, checking other vendors and whatever they sell, towels, earings, necklaces, ice-cream, water,hammocks, I saw one guy fainted too. It was around 33 celsius (98-100 F) but some of these guys work the whole day setting up umbrellas for customers so they get heat exhaustion.
This monday then, after returning from the Maracana, where I stepped on the field and visited the showers and lockers of this great players was my last day in Rio. Bryony was in a hostel two doors from mine so we shared the cab. Once at the rodoviaria (the bus station) we met two other guys, Rebeca from Switzerland and Guy from Israel. We became friends right away, and we all had a good connection among us. It was a blessed since riding from 28 hours, from 1pm to 5pm the next day,to Corumba could have been a little ´long´. You meet people from different countries, different backgrounds, different ideas, different cultures and physically differences too. All this make these types of trips so interesting for me. But I want to believe the common factor is they are also travelling cause they are taking a break from their routines and they want to spend time go to place the hear of once. Some have already a plan, work, volunteer, language. Others are just travelling, like me. The bus ride was not bad at all, air conditioned buses,new drivers each six hours, and about 6 or 7 stops for quick snacks. The prices a little high though for the type of food we were getting. I believe these buses fix or coordinate the places where they go, like an arrangement, almost like a monopoly. So whenever we saw another restaurant around the corner we would choose that one to save some reais. We scored really good in Miranda, a stop 4 hours before Corumba. So we ate a lot of meat for almost a third of the price we were paying.

Christ and Jehova

I and three more guys I became friends with in Sao Paulo arrived to Rio by the morning of this past tueday after taking the overnight bus. I got to use my coat, the one I have been carrying around since I left Seattle. I knew I had to use it at one point. So it was great defense against the full blast air conditioning of the bus. Today I decided I will continue with my original idea of getting to Peru by crossing through Bolivia. So the Iguaçu Falls will have to wait for a next trip. Although I change my mind often so tomorrow I may change my idea again. For now, I am feeling a little tired of walking for so long. Rio is know for their beaches and the small bikinis men and women use. I am spending sometime in the beaches of Ipanema and Copacabana but I decided to do some tour also. Trying to get pictures of the sunset from the Corcovado was not an easy task since I decided to hike all the way up to the top. It is a good two-and-half hour walking, which covers about 9 km, and sweating. I thought I was going to see more people hiking but apparently there is another route to go by foot. I went to the wrong side of the mountain so I used the vehicles' road. Getting to the top was a feeling of accomplishment.One that I felt on my own. I don't know if anybody would feel it just bu doing the hiking itself. It is not that bad actually, but at the end of the hike you wish there was a pool. I have always seen this Christ (Corcovado)on turism magazines since I was a kid. When I got to the end I just did what everybody else does, take out my camera and go to the floor to see if my lense can capture the whole figure of this statue. It got dark pretty soon after my arrival, so pictures on the night were not possible since I don't have a flash on my camera. As I saw the rest of the 'photographers' wrapping up their duties I established a conversation with two Brazilian couples. After talking about our backgrounds and deciding that Brazil will take this next World Cup, they offered me a ride on their car down to the city. On the way back I told them I was visiting Brasil because I am taking a break from work. I also told them I went to fabela Rocinha. They thought I was on the fabela walking and taking pictures by myself. I explained them it was part of a tour group I signed up through the hotel. Fabelas are considered very poor and, at the same time, very dangerous to live. They are usually houses built around some hills, where the electricity are usually taken, as a manner of 'saving', from the public poles; the ones that are suppossed to iluminate the streets. As poor as the Fabelas are, I saw also a litle kid playing in the internet with the computer in the store her family had acommodated to sell water and groceries. It meant nothing to me but I took it as a contrast for this neighborhood. There were some really bad parts, like poor sewage draining, kids selling things they either stole or found. I was a happy when the guide told me part of the money we paid for the Fabela tour was sent to the day-care they sponsor. The guide had already made friends with all the vendors, for safety, business and good relationship of course. They were some kids also communicating via fireworks with other drug dealers to warn them the police was near.
At least that was the tour guide told us. I had a beach break, between the Fabela and the Christ visits, at Ipanema where I run into some guys staying at the same hostel I am staying. I used the beach time to play some 'paletas'. Kind of tennis but on the sand, without net and without score. It was a good thing then, going back to the sunset hike, that these four Brasilians were also visiting and offered me a ride back to town. They gave me a bible as a gift since they are 'Jehova witness'. A gift is a gift I think so I will keep it for a while.

Without Carlitos...

I went to a classic soccer match in Sao Paulo. Corinthias against Sao Paulo. It is crazy going and leaving from there. I bought 4 tickets since some people on the hostel were also interested. I bought entry for the 'geral' section. You have a ticket but forget about your assigned number. You go early and pick the seat you want. Yep, try to tell somebody he is on your seat. So as they say: "When in Rome, do as the Romans" we picked the first seats we saw available. Good thing we went a little early so we had time to get some beers on the street and walk with them until the gate. After the body search for arms we walked to 'our' section. We decided to be in the middle of the noise fans. So, we were singing and rooting for Corinthians, which in this Stadium, the Mourumbi, are visitors. We watched the whole game standing, we sat during the half time. A couple of times I thought we were having an earthquake, but we shortly realized it was the stadium shaking, literally, because the fans were jumping while rooting for their team. Sao Paulo was the home team and were seating on the other side of the field. We were behind the goal and little by little we started to adopt the side we picked. It is just impossible not to. One thing that was new to me, was the allocation of people on the stadium. The one for Sao Paulo were on one side, the ones for Corinthias on the other. God only knows what would happen if a 'cool' supporter, with a brand new shirt, decides to sit on the wrong side. Well, I kind of know now after watching some fans of the the two teams almost fighting on the middle of the street after the game was over. Good thing the police has a lot of experiences for those cases. They do it every week. Unfortunately we watched `our` team, Corinthians, loosing. Carlitos Teves, Corinthians best player, who is, ironically, Argentinian and was picked the best player of the Brazilian league, was injured....too bad.

stand by

I went to the ticket counter to check-in for my flight to San Francisco - USA and I asked the agent I wanted to pick up my luggage in São Paulo. Without any questions the gentleman weighed my back-pack and put a ticket to Gurulhos, São Paulo airport. As the plane took off I could see down Praia do Flamingo and all its little bars on the beach. Only time will tell me if I will be back. After two hours on the air and the enjoyment of having the seat next to me empty I arrived to São Paulo I picked up my back-pack without any sweat and went out to take the metro. Since this trip is about planning just the 'minimo' I realized I had to take a bus for half hour to the metro station. No problem. Big cities and well structured airports make travelling a lot easier and of course asking around and/or pointing maps or signs are universally understood as 'I am lost. Can you please help me'. I sat in the bus and started wondering if somebody that was on the waiting list to get to San Francisco was given the ok to go that night. If not, somebody else was about to have the enjoyment of having the seat next to her/him empty for 6 hours. It was already dark and the bus made its way through freeways and big signs of 6 famous Brazilian futebol players. This bank is paying some good money, I assume, to these guys to seduce people to open new accounts at the bank. "Be part of the best team of the world".
As arrived to the Metro station I walked up to the terminal and bought my ticket. 2,10 Reais. Again, I was surprised with the organization and speed of getting a ticket and the system itself. I haven't been in a lot of cities that have Metro (subway) system but this one looked exactly the same as the ones I have seen. Maybe, they could use the air conditioning so passengers can forget, for the time of their trip, about the hot weather of this city. But that is just an observation. Thanks to the internet I knew where to get off and change subway lines, so after one hour ride I took again my two back-packs and emerged to the city. I asked a man for the location of the street I was heading to, so I started walking, checking always to my right, my left and behind me. Just to be safe, you never know, but I always believe nothing will happen. I ended up on a residential area, I only run into four people, at different times, and I didn't hesitate to ask them if the street I was looking for was on the direction I was going. One older guy was also travelling so he couldn't tell me, two other girls got scared and just kept walking, and later, one guy with his son confirmed me I was good. As I walked in to the Hostel, people were watching TV, another was using the internet, and a bigger group, which I later went out with were having drinks. I was to sleep there only for one night since they didn't have space for me next day. 'Tudo bom' (It is fine) I said. I paid, went in to the room that I was going to share with 9 more people, boys and girls, and I made my way to the patio where the drinking group were. The neighbors were complaining about midnight because of the noise so we went to a bar close to the hostel.

First Stop

Tomorrow I will be leaving Salvador. I had great times here. Carnaval, the family I lived with for the whole month, friends I made while in this city, friends that visited from San Francisco. I bought a CD to listen to the songs I danced and drunk with while in Carnaval. I still have the option to stay and take care of Diego's bar at Praia de Flamingo but for now I think I will depart. He doesn't need anyone until May anyways so chances are still there for me to come back to Salvador. For now my mind is in Sao Paolo. My Portuguese has definetely gotten better. There are still some Spanish words I use instead but I think the more I speak the better it gets. It is still strange to see people drinking a lot, I drink too, but people that I imagine are working are having a drink or two, or three on a restaurant at all times. Others play domino on a park while at their lunch break, others just sit around and do their daily tasks. A man who fixes shoes, a lady who prepares Acaraje, a type of fried flour loaf that it is cut on the middle and filled up with shrimp, meat, chicken or veggies. It is very heavy on the stomach and it is not recommended to eat more than two at once. The vendors on the beach selling cheese, which they burn a little so one can eat it hot, cold beer, which you can take it as you walk on the beach, streets or even another restaurant. "Sem problema" (with no problem). Those little things that sometimes I am not used to or simply I forgot I saw it when living in Peru. What I like the most is that when needing lunch I had the options of paying 20 reais for a meal in a nice place, with nice tables and music or crossing the street and paying 5.50 reais for the same meal and a coke, of course you give up the music and waiter on a suit and the food is brought by the lady who cooked it.

Letters

I had the courage to read her letter. Apparently I am the one to blame for the end of my last relationship. It is okay. Maybe she is right. But I am not spending more time explaining myself. Maybe one day, before the end of this trip, I have a total decision, and courage, to write more about it. For now, I just want to believe it is not my duty to spell things out when my actions towards people are honest. Perhaps the messages I give with my actions are read in a different way that intended. Well, they can always ask me to confirm, I guess.

Saudade...

Carnaval is over, I have lost about 8 pounds just by walking, dancing and partying. Not bad. My skin has also turned almost black, well, very tanned. Considering all the craziness, I was impressed every single day how the streets were so clean after the 8 hours of celebrations. The blocos were crazy and I like the idea of keeping an Abada as a souvenier. I usually don't buy anything when I travel so these shirts will be a great memory of the days I spent here. There were other days when I went Pipoca. This way you get together with some friends and stand by the sidewalk to watch the parade of blocos passing by. Of course it is not a very comfortable way, although it depends where you stand. If the bloco which is passing is very popular and therefore big, you pretty much see, and feel, how the many strangers with a can of beer on their hands, push against whoever is behind you. Everything is sweating so if you have allergies to, or fobia rather, to having your personal space invaded, then you have to be really patient or really drunk to forgive that. It is all part of the great party anyways. On the pipocas you are also exposed to pickpocketers and be REALLY close to a fight that may break because somebody was making his or her way a little rough on somebody else. But again it is all part of this big party, and that is what I missed already....when Brazilians miss something they have saudade....a word, they say, is only brazilian....

The biggest

Yep, I can not imagine another party like this one. 6 straight days of non-stop parties. Last night was the first day of Carnaval here in Brasil. Salvador is still the place where everybody is part of the whole thing. I got to the bloco at 7:30 pm, the end of the route, along the road by the beach, was after maybe one or two miles only but it took about 5 hours to cover it. We followed the Trio Electrico (the specially designed bus where the band plays on the roof). The first group that opened the Carnaval for bloco Tremix was Rapazolla. Tremix has sold three days with three different bands. I believe there are about 10 blocos. But, at the time of the party, that doesn't matter since you have enough fun on your own bloco, besides once you pay for one bloco they give you a shirt which is designed just for that bloco so you have to stay with that group.

Undecided

I haven´t bought my ticket to a bloco or camarote....the bloco is a entry, acces, to go behind a big truck with an open ceiling and live music...a camarote is pretty much a balcony to watch the parade of blocos....I would like to do both. Money? About 150 dollars for each....I guess you are in Carnaval, the mais grande do Mundo, ( the biggest in the world) only once, or at least that´s how I think now. Anyways. I haven´t decided yet how to use my money. In the meantime I am meeting friends from different parts of the world. Diego is from Spain. Some years ago, he decided to come to Brasil for just two months but he will be spending his 5th Carnaval in Salvador this year. He asked me today if I already met a mininha (girl)...I said no. Tio tu estas lento! (Dude, you are slow!). It is ok. I am just trying to resolve my own things first, Portuguese, travelling, food, getting tanned...maybe go to a soccer match. Sometimes, I feel like working here so I can write more stories, but I guess for now everything is about me and walking around like a bum. Not too much to say, just that Carnaval is coming and I haven´t bought a ticket or anything like that. I went yesterday to a party where I needed to buy a shirt (abada) to get in. This shirt was sold initially for 40 reais. Last night they were selling it for 120 reais...No, thank you. Too bad I couldn´t hang out with Lais and her friends. Lais is Rosa's daughter, the lady who is renting me the room for this month. Lais and her mother Rosa are very nice, they take me everywhere to check out the places where Brazilians hang out. I like that. I don´t want to go where tourists go. I wonder if anybody can stay here or anywhere the way Diego did. There are times I feel like working for a big corporation, but sometimes, I imagine myself working on a bar in front of the beach, drinking beer and talking to the clients...is it that bad?
I didn´t see the sunset today but it felt really good to hang out with strangers that are becoming friends...I guess that is the way it goes...

Aulas

Today I had the classes of Portuguese for the first time in Salvador. It takes me about 40 to 45 minutes to get the Sheila´s apartment. She has been teaching Portuguese for about 10 years in Salvador. My Portuguese is `bon´but I need to learn the prepositions, conditionals and reflexive verbs mainly.
Staying at Rosa´s has been a great decision. I am practicing a lot of Portuguese with her, her daughter, friends and with other people that are staying at her house. I will be there for a month so I think that if I stay by myself in a hotel I would drive myself crazier. Rosa also has a shop where she sells and fixes `abadas´, which are shirts of different colors that people use to go to certain parties before THE Carnaval. All her clients are women, and yes, you can appreciate the beauty of Brasilian women. I have found, the ones I have been introduced to, very friendly and always helpful to tell you where to go. Sometimes I feel they are flirting but I think is the way they are: warm and attentive with people.
I hope that as I continue to write here, the ideas will come easily and I won´t get overwhelmed by the memories I got since I arrived to Brazil. There are so many already.
There are so many places to go here but I have chosen to spend most of my time at the beach, after all it is summer here so why not? At the same time I want to get tanned and the first signs of sunburn are present on some part of my body. I used sun-block for the first time but the application was not even. I have marks of my fingers on my back and part of my belly. My shoulders didnt´get exposed so my upper back looked like a whippered windshield...I guess this is one of the times I wish I didn´t come alone. The salty water is also good for cuts. I got my first ones playing some beach soccer, although not a big field, just an informal pick-up game, (bate baba). I definetely have gained some weight on the last 4 months in Seattle, I could feel it when I was trying to keep up with these kids...Of course they play all the time and I am not used to play barefoot on the sand. In any rate, it was satisfying to play here, specially when you know ´futebol´is the sport Brazilians breathe, you just don´t want to mess up. They were friendly also, they were actually the ones who called me when they saw me walking alone on the beach at 7pm. `We´ll be here next week, so come´. Yes, I will play with them again.
For now I will go the beach. I can hear it calling my name anytime I turn to my right from this internet restaurant. Perhaps I´ll stay until sunset and if it gets to be as the perfect sunsets you only see on post cards or National Geographic, the ones where the sun turns totally orange and you see exactly half of the circle, no clouds, and as big as almost half of the horizon your eyes can capture, then I would applaud with the rest of the people... as they did last Friday. I saw the perfect sunset.

Seahawks...

The day has come. I spent the day with a dear friend of mine in San Francisco. Good thing we are still in winter time in USA so I didn't have any problem finding a room at the hostelling in downtown. The ride in train was good, long but relaxed. I definetely felt I needed my own room at one point. The little kid crying and the corridor light in my face were somehow tiring. Meeting Alberto, an Argentinian who was checking Seattle before proposing to his American girlfriend, was, in a good way, distracting from my regular thoughts. You find sometimes people with the same ideas you have and you get a little surprised that perhaps you´ll never see them again. My Mariners shirt didn't help during the game...

Test under the sunset

Brazil is where I am heading. I will try to control myself to write nothing until the trip I am planning to engage in.