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.