June 15, 2011
Until now, my trip to Peru seemed like a fragmented dream; the kind where you wake up and remember the main episodes, but cannot remember any details no matter how hard you challenge your memory. It seemed like a dream partly because my trip would not become reality until I crossed the security lines at the airport, and also because I left for Peru with little expectations or knowledge of the country. For as long as I can remember, I have been infatuated with what seems to be every culture except American. To me, every culture embodies the happiness of life. Every other culture is so colored with art, music, and great food. When I think of going to Peru, or any other country for that matter, all I can think of is this sense of love and beauty. I think of a life that so vividly shines throughout the clothes the people wear; however, I cannot imagine the little details or what to expect. Like a dream, I cannot quite put my finger on what kind of food Peruvians eat, or what the city of Cuzco will be like, or how the people I meet will act.
It’s been a long day of traveling, almost a full 24 hours, and while I am exhausted from not sleeping on the plane, all I want to do is explore. I finally got a taste of the culture and the life that I had always dreamed of but never knew, and all I want is more. I want to study it, learn it, embody it.
In a way, I am slightly pleased with my ignorance because I cannot be disappointed. Even so, I don’t think I could have dreamed up anything as spectacular as what I am about to experience.
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