Cuzco

I have just left Cuzco after spending 10 days there. I quite enjoyed it when I first arrived, in spite of the touristy-ness of it all, but I'm glad to be on the road again.

I've been told a couple of times that I almost look like a Latina, but the folks who sell things to tourists can definitely pick me out so I'm not so sure. It kind of makes me uncomfortable being in a place where the main industry is tourism - you are constantly being asked to buy things that you don't want and it makes me sad. At one point I bought some cards from a little boy and then I realized, "Wait a minute. I just supported child exploitation! Shit!" After you've been here for a while, it almost seems normal to see kids working.

I spent a week studying Spanish at a pretty laid-back school and also staying with a family while I was doing that. It was a good experience and such a relief to be able to stay in one place for a somewhat extended period of time. I had some pretty cool conversations with my teachers, both young women, about the environment, gender, development, religion, politics...it was neat.

I also got pretty good at riding public transit, which basically consists of minibuses whose ceilings are so low that some unfortunate tall people have to double over if they're standing. As you approach each stop the ticket person calls out the name of the stop, and you have to yell "Baja!" if you want to get off. Then as the minibus arrives at the stop the ticket person yells "Bajabajabajabaja!" to encourage you to get the hell off the minibus as quickly as possible. I hit my head at last four times over the course of the week. Okay so maybe I wasn't so good at it after all.

On the road to Cuzco

I was eager to get to the mountains and away from the Coast, and I have not been disappointed. The Andes are spectacular. On the drive from Chalhuanca to Curahuasi we practically drove through clouds, we were so high. And at one point the driver popped in a CD and out came a Spanish version of "Just Another Day" by Jon Secada. Does anyone remember that song? I used to request it on the radio when I was 10. It was absolute bliss.

Curahuasi itself was lovely too. I went to a little restaurant and was instantly accosted by a little boy who wanted me to read through his book of English for Children with him. After dinner we listened to the accompanying CD of English children's songs, as sung by someone who didn't actually know how to pronounce the lyrics. So there I was, singing Jingle Bells and Old McDonald with this little boy, who also didn't know any of the words but had memorized the sounds. It was one of those moments that you get when you're traveling that make you so happy you're there.

The next day I went on a hike up to a lookout (I can hike!) and aside from nearly being attacked by a farmer's dog and then being chased by a terrifyingly huge bee-like insect for 15 minutes it was totally awesome. From the lookout I felt like I was in Lord of the Rings - you know, the scene where they're escaping down the river and they see the huge sculptures of kings on the way....yeah. It was the majesty of the mountains that made me think of that. Here are some photos to give you an idea, plus a couple of the last mountain town, Chalhuanca, at the bottom:

Dune buggies and the Peruvian desert

Guided excursions and the search for the authentic

I've been here for about a week now and I've already been on three guided tours. I generally hate those sorts of things because they make me feel like I'm part of the tourist machine, which is a truth I generally try to ignore. You get herded around with all of the other tourists to all sorts of businesses and restaurants that have been specifically designed with tourists in mind, and it all feels very unauthentic. And like many other white (for all intents and purposes I'm white okay?) young middle class backpacker types, I am trying to go to places that feel "authentic."

That said, all three tours were really awesome and would have been either impossible or really challenging to try to do on my own. I went to see the Islas Ballestas (also known as the Galapagos for the poor) and the Paracas National Reserve, to see some local bodegas in Ica where the specialty is a liquor called Pisco, and on a trip into the desert via dune buggies, where we could sandboard. Since pretty much none of us could actually sandboard we just went down the dunes headfirst on the board. I kind of shocked myself with that one.

Anyway, now I'm in this tiny mountain town called Chalhuanca and I can proudly say that I am the only tourist that I've seen here today. I had forgotten though that the search for authenticity has some drawbacks, i.e. my complete lack of anonymity. I don't mind so much when kids stare at me but adults kind of weird me out. Also got a bit of a culture shock today - a guy asked why I was traveling alone and I said my boyfriend would be joining me in June. He then replied, "Oh she has a boyfriend. I'm going to kill him! ha ha!" but in a really friendly, jesting kind of way. Needless to say that conversation lasted another two seconds.

Arrival in Lima

I'm in Peru! And I have a blog!

I was only in Lima for a couple of days but it made quite an impression on me. One of the first things that struck me was how familiar it smelled - the combination of humidity and car exhaust brought me right back to Conakry, Guinea. Which is weird. But there you have it.

Another thing that struck me was the driving. I experienced the most aggressive driving I have ever seen, and believe me, I have been to some places where the driving is pretty crazy. The taxi drivers here (some, not all) drive as if they're on coke. They're changing lanes every two seconds. And of course there are generally no seatbelts. In spite of the seeming impatience, everyone has still been very pleasant. One particularly crazy driver seemed amused when he kindly asked me for my fare and I didn't understand what he was saying. Spanish, where have you gone?

The other weird thing is how wealthy the wealthy neighbourhoods are. The oceanside apartments of Barranco and Miraflores made me think of Beverly Hills (or something like it). They were absolutely spectacular. Not only that, but rich people here go jogging, own pet dogs, put clothing on their pet dogs, and even post "Missing" posters when their pet dogs get lost. Not really what I was expecting, based on previous travels. I'm kind of sad that globalization has exported, of all things, the dressing of dogs in silly outfits.