colombiaaaaaa!!

Once again, I am back in South America-- this time for a little taste of colombiaaaaaa! I knew I couldn't stay away for long, but I didn't expect I would return so soon.

WOW does it feel good to be back!I have missed the thrill of speaking in spanish, the beat of the salsa music courisng through mi sangre, and the fresh fruit and perfectly ripened avocados sold on the street. It's amazing how right south america feels. The relaxed culture defies everything about my routine and lifestyle at home. The music and the people are something that cannot be found in the United States, no matter how relaxed you are and thats why I love it here.

Our first two days, we spent in Bogota. It is big city filled with nice restaurants and shops, yet it still retains the South American culture with its plazas and street vendors. Since we only had two days in Bogota (which is really all that is needed) we packed in as many touristy sites there were to see. We went to the salt flats, took a gondola ride through the mountains and forest that overlooked the city, went to the gold museum, and ate at some authentic Colombia cuisine. What a surprise: chicken, rice, and potatoes. Interestingly enough, I ate the chicken, rice, and potatoes and enjoyed it! It brought back a lot of memories from Peru and was my South American comfort food. We ended our stay with salsa dancing through the night.

Now, we are here in Cartegena and I think I might cry when it is time to leave. Cartegena is the beach city of Colombia. The town is painted with vibrant yellows, oranges, and blues and the streets are filled with people dancing to colombian music. I have never been to Cuba, but Cartegena is what I would imagine Cuba to be like. It seems like it has a lot of Cuban influence. Last night we went to the havanna club, which seemed very cuban with its live band and dancing. The place was fantastic!

I have so much more to say but limited time. I will update later with pictures of this beautiful place!

nostalgia

Peru seems like a dream, which is actually a lot more depressing than it sounds.  Now that I am back to my daily life and have just finished my fifth week at school, its hard to remember what life was like in Peru. The feeling of excitement has vanished, the thrillish terror of never knowing what people are saying (or what you are saying for that matter)  does not exist, and once again, I am oblivious to the world around me, forced to think only about what I need to get done today.  

me time

It's 4:30 in the afternoon, and for the last hour I have been lying in my hammock with a glass of wine and my new book. I'm rebelling against myself, and it's so exhilarating! I am far beyond out of my element right now, but ironically enough, I don't feel uncomfortable in the slightest. Maybe, I'm actually in my element and I've been living outside of my element for the past few years. I can't remember the last time I relaxed and did exactly what I wanted to do, instead of what I think I should do. I'm (usually) constantly running around doing errands, stressing over schoolwork, working on my tan at the beach, or working my ass of at the gym, but nope! None of that today. Just me, my hammock, and a glass of wine. I really should do this more often. I know I sound like a middle aged divorcee, but hell! If this is what it's like to be divorced, then I only have one more reason to look forward to getting married! 

the people you meet

While I was at work today, facebooking during my lunch hour, one of my friends from Argentina instant messaged me. Hearing from him instantly brightened up what would have been another monotonous day at work. It's funny how someone I barely know can make me feel so much happier. He reminded me of my exciting experiences abroad and how much I love speaking Spanish. One of my favorite parts about the Spanish language is that everyone gives hundreds of besos or kisses. It reminds me how wonderful friendships can be and how fundamental relationships are to our well-being. While the places I went were breathtaking, the people I met were just as memorable because, for me, the people I meet usually shape my experiences. Peru is the country that I liked the most because there I met and lived with my wonderful host family. And the 10 hour bus trip to Lake Titticacca was anything but dreadful because I sat with my friends in the back of the bus, where we made fools of ourselves while playing asshole. Argentina was an upbeat and unpredictable adventure that included lots of food, as always when I am with my boyfriend, Mr. Chadwick. While I know my insight does not compare to the profoundness of the wise old philosophers, my thoughts are this: Even though you may think a friendship is insignificant, do not underestimate your connection. It may cross your mind to avoid the effort and ignore the petty friendships, but I advise you not to. You never know, it may make someone's day, like it did for me.

so what if you still live with your parents? im jealous

When I was a little girl I used to tell my parents that I was going to live with them until I was 35. By the time I was ready for college, I abandoned that thought and moved, what seemed like, as far away as possible. In reality, I was only a four and half hour drive away from them and a ten minute card ride to the beach.

I didn't move away because I resented my parents, but rather, I was eager to try life on my own. I was ready to create my own structure of life and schedule to my day--which meant the obvious, no curfew, and the not so obvious, no dessert. (My parents cook amazingly delicious food, which is almost always followed by a just as amazing dessert. Needless to say, it was impossible to get rid of my few extra pounds while living at home).

Now after four years of living on my own, living with my parents until the age of 35 doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. Discounting my years of oblivion, I had always judged people past the age of twenty who still lived with their parents. I thought they were all just lazy bums couch surfing and smoking marijuana in their parent's basement; however, in my more recent years, that stigma has completely vanished, and I've traded my disapproval for envy.

At the age of 22, I still cry whenever I leave my parents house. It's sad to think that life will never be the same as when I was a child. My brother, sister, and I will never again live simultaneously under the same roof as my parents. I don't get to see my family every day like I used to, nor do I have the chance to kiss them goodnight or even just the comfort of knowing they are just a hall away.

Sure I like having my own schedule, and of course, I have shed those stubborn pounds my parents blessed me with; however, in hindsight, those seem insignificant to what I was trading in: home cooked dinner, mom by my side when I am sick, dad to make cookies with, my brother to wrestle with, and my sister to share clothes with.

I just spent the weekend with my family in Lake Tahoe, and it was the most fun I have had in a long time! I don't care if that sounds boring to most people who think Tahoe is a place to get ripped and hang out with friends, I had an amazing time with my family. I love my parents, I love my brother and sister, and I love even more when we are all together.

a common ground

Since returning back to SLO, I can't help but feel saddened. My first week back in the states I visited my parents and we went to Lake Tahoe. There, we rode jet skis, went to the beach, rode bikes, ate delicious food, and drank wine. We had a great time, basically making up for the last two months that I was gone; however, now that I am no longer on vacation with my parents or living in another country, I feel like I am missing out on life. I've been in SLO for two days and already its back to my normal routine, which now, in retrospect, seems so insignificant and void of meaning. What used to be my favorite place, the so called happiest place to live, doesn't seem so awesome anymore. True, my last few days of my trip to South America, I was homesick and ready to return home, but now that I am here, I am not sure as to why I was ever in any rush to get back. Why is it that we always seem to want what we can't have? As the end of my trip approached, I yearned for hot yoga, my family, my friends, warm weather, my schedule, my comfort. I longed for my life that was all too familiar, and now that I have had my fix, I am satisfied and want to go back. For me, I feel like that is a recurring theme in my life. I always want that instant gratification, and sometimes I fail to see what is going to give me a lasting feeling of fulfillment and joy. I wish I had spent those last few days of my trip more freely instead of thinking about how exciting it was going to be to return home. Now that I reflect on it, it seems crazy that thoughts like that even passed through my mind. I will always have America and my family to return to, so I should enjoy the time I have in another country, especially one that I may never return to. It seems ungrateful of me to say that after my trip to South America, I am not satisfied; however, I am only unsatisfied in the sense that now I have an even stronger desire to travel than before. After having such a wonderful time abroad and sharing in new and interesting experiences, I want to explore the world. I found that in every country there is something unique and wonderful about their culture, and there is always at least one beautiful thing worth seeing in a city. I met a number of interesting people, and after talking with people from all over the world, I learned that we are all alike. Although we may dress differently, speak different languages, or even have different political views, we all just want to enjoy life: live, love, eat, drink, and see the wonders of the world.

Argentina

I just paid twenty bucks for the worst sandwich, but I’m happy I at least ordered a glass of chocolate milk to make up for it. I have five more hours until my flight and the only thing Buenos Aires Airport has is this crappy Tango Bar. Great.

Buenos Aires is one hell of a city. In retrospect, it sounds like America: the people here are very proud, love meat, and love to party. I thought Americans loved to drink, until I came to Argentina. In Buenos Aires, they don’t go out to the clubs until 2 in the morning and then they dance until the sun comes up. Personally, I couldn’t keep up. I’m not really sure how anyone functions the next day or goes to work. Chad nearly missed his flight today because we were so hungover and slept until an hour before his flight. Maybe that’s why Argentina is still considered a developing nation; everyone is too god damn hungover to work the next day, so they simply don’t.

Aside from this crappy sandwich I just ordered, the food in Buenos Aires has been fantastic. I don’t even like meat, but in Buenos Aires I do. Last night, Chad and I went to the best buffet. Buffets here are not like American buffets, which are cheap and full of people overweight. No this was much more gourmet. Imagine: a limitless amount of tender steaks cooked right on the grill in front of you, sausages, papas fritas, salad, grilled vegetables, and ice cream. Better yet, each person gets their own bottle of wine or pitcher of beer. I can’t even explain how amazing this place was, and unlike the states, it was filled with classy couples. The upper class, with their fake boobs and gucci purses (yes, they love designer brands here, which I was surprised about as well). This buffet was not filled by large food loving savages, but rather by fine diners, who stopped by in their suits after a long day of work.

For a country that mocks everything Americans do and secretly admires them, I have never felt so unwelcomed as an American myself. In conversation, people were always shocked that I was from America. “But you’re not fat” or “You are way too beautiful to be American, I thought you were Brazilian” is what they would say to me. Every now and then, I would get, “Of course not, you’re American. You wouldn’t know that”. Well that’s just fantastic, the rest of the world not only thinks we are proud assholes, but we are fat and ugly as well. It’s unfortunate, our reputation. I can understand why people may think Americans are ignorant. As a generalization, we kind of are. The German kid knew more about Barack Obama and his policies than I did, and sadly enough, I didn’t know England was an island either. Brazil owes Gisele Bundech a hell of lot; thanks to her, the world thinks all Brazilians are drop dead gorgeous and look great in a bikini. And thanks to George Bush, everyone thinks Americans are ugly idiots.

Probecho

While the food in South America has been good, I am certainly happy to return back to the states. I don’t know if it’s because my dad and my grandparents have spoiled me with food all my life, but I feel like nothing compares to American food. I’m not even sure what American food is, but I do know that is a lot better than eating chicken and rice everyday. In the past two months, I have maybe ate vegetables a total of ten times. I am excited to return home to a fresh dinner of salmon with a green salad and of course, sushi. Albeit japanese, I feel like it has become enough of a fad to be considered American.

But I don’t want to completely knock Peruvian food; like I said, the food in South America is good, it just lacks a little bit of variety. One of my favorite things about food in South America is that you can find whatever you want on the street: popcorn, pineapple, almonds, empanadas, chocolate, really, whatever you want!

Every morning began with pan, or bread. When we were lucky, our host mom would serve us yogurt or eggs. For lunch it was, surprise!, some sort of variation of chicken, rice, and potatoes. I never knew there were so many ways to prepare chicken and rice! There were so many different types of sauces, most of which were made with a milk and cheese base.

Although the first couple of days we didn’t eat dinner, after about a week or so we started having left overs for dinner, many of times which I skipped out on. I skipped out on dinner not only because I was so full from lunch, but also because I was so tired of eating chicken and rice, especially if I already knew what it was going to taste like. After dinner, came dessert, which was my favorite. Dessert in Peru is slightly different and consists of a cup of tea and galletas con dulce de leche (crackers with carmel spreading).

The strangest thing I tried in Peru was cuye. Cuye is the furry friend we all had when we were in third grade, also known as guinea pig. Surprisingly enough, I actually enjoyed it. Apart from the fish like miniature bones and lack of meat, it had a lot of flavor. They prepare cuye only on special occasions, similar to our thanksgiving, stuffing it with cilantro and basil.

Chile, on the other hand, is known for its fish, since the whole country practically is a coast. My first day in Chile I had fish and papas fritas for lunch for a total of $3, and it was delicious! While I was in chile I also tried ceviche, which is much different than our American version of ceviche. Ceviche in chile has cooked fish and is almost like a soup. While I enjoyed the ceviche in Chile, I think I prefer American ceviche.

And now, I am in Argentina, and think I have tried the best food yet (apart from their Italian food, which is terrible). Our first night here, we went to a steak place and it was so delicious! I don’t usually even like steak, but this steak was covered in mushrooms and so tender that I couldn’t resist. There are also tons of parillas on the streets, or meat restaurants. Chad and I went to one today and got sausage sandwiches, which were the most delicious things I have ever tasted.

Since being in South America, I have definitely eaten my share of bread and meat. As I see it, I am making up for past years when I passed on the bread and meat, and while it has been fun to indulge, I am definitely ready for my healthy organic california style of eating, just as much as my waist line is. In spanish, after every good meal they say probecho as a way to say 'thanks for the food, i enjoyed eating it.' So "probecho" Latin America, but I'm ready for California.

Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu really is all it is cracked up to be. At first, I was thinking that nothing could compare to the Amazon but Machu Picchu is just as amazing. We did the six hour hike to the top of Machu Picchu, but you can also backpack the Inca Trail for four days. One day, hopefully, I will return to Peru and do the Inca Trail.

The hike was beautiful. The bottom of Machu Picchu is at 6,000 ft and is part of the Amazon basin so it was much more tropical and hotter than I was expecting.

My journey to Machu Picchu seems like it came out of a movie. It was hot and beautiful all day. We were sweaty, but it was well worth it. After 6 hours of climbing stairs and hiking up 2,ooo ft, I finally reached the top in awe. Just as I was thinking things could be any better, it started to pour. It was as if Pacha Mama (mother earth in quechua, the language of the Incas) read my mind. After a long day of hiking, fresh crisp drops of rain against my skin was just what I had wished for. There is something spectacular to say about standing in the rain and admiring such a masterpiece as Machu Picchu. In that moment, I felt so small, yet powerful at the same time. I felt small in comparison to the grandness of Machu Picchu and the power of mother nature. I also felt like I was on top of the world and I could do anything. Seeing the hard work and dedication put into building an entire city on top of a secluded mountain really is inspiring.

The rain didn't last long, but long enough for me to realize my fortune. And of course, after every rainfall comes a rainbow.

Machu Picchu was a great way to end my trip in Cuzco. It is the heart of the city and the people here. It explains the general love of the culture and people in this country, and it also concludes everything I have felt this last month.

my time

Since being back from the Amazon, we have had two work days. We built stoves in an Indigenous community. Before, the people of the community were using stoves without chimneys; the walls of the kitchen were black and charred from the smoke. At first, the service seemed miniscule, but after learning that almost 2 million people die a year from breathing inside smoke, I realized how necessary this project actually was. The black smoot released from the previous stoves is also said to be 700 times more harming to the atmosphere, in terms of global warming.

Other than that, I have been dancing the night away at the discotheques. I also went to my host grandma's 92nd birthday last night, which was pretty wild. It was like a family reunion; there were family members flying in from France and Amsterdam. I exchanged e-mails with the relatives that live out of the country and scored a future place to stay when I travel.

I know it seems like every time I write, I just drank a huge glass of endorphins. Of course I love Peru and everything has been so exciting, but I think I am starting to get used to life here a little more. As always, time bring frustration and I guess I should probably write about some of the more unpleasant things I have experienced so that my whole visit in Peru doesn't seem like one big fairy tale (although it is quite close).

I really don't have much to complain about, just weird little nuisances that seem to get under my skin every now and then. Like with every relationship, the longer you know someone the more you start to notice the little things and develop pet peeves. The thing that has been most frustrating for me is not having my own time. I have gotten so accustomed to living by myself that I like to do what I want, when I want. If I don't want to do something, I simply don't... but here it's different. I can't tell my family I don't want to wake up early on my day off to go to a mass I hardly understand, or that for the 40th day in a row I don't want to eat chicken, rice, and potatoes. It would be insulting to my family, so for the most part I have just been going along for the ride with a smile on my face. It hasn't really bothered me until now, as my days left are quickly diminishing. For example, today we went on a two hour car ride just because. Also, we crammed 6 people in the car for those two hours. Not exactly what I want to do with my free time here.

Although my time in Peru is just about coming to an end, I am excited to travel after and have my time back again. Traveling after will be the happily ever after to my fairy tale.

jungle fever

I just came back from the AMAZON FOREST and man do I have jungle fever!! All I can say is, WOW. I have never experienced something so amazing in my life! After so many years of learning about the Amazon in grade school, never in a million years did I actually think I would one day float down the river of the Amazon.

Our trip started off with getting picked up from the airport and then being transferred by boat to our lodge. Every minute of the trip I was amazed. We ate lunch out of banana leaves...of course, right? The lodge was beautiful and open to the forest. We had hammocks to lay on and mosquito nets to cover our beds at night. The first day, we hiked up to a tower that was 120 ft tall to see the most breathtaking view of the entire forest. We took a boat ride and swam in the river. We played soccer with the locals every day after lunch. We visited a shaman and woke up at 4am to see the beautiful sunrise. We fished for piranas, we swung from the vines of the trees, we went on a night walk, we danced meringue, we did everything there was to do and more.

I never thought I would say this, but I am somewhat sad to return to Cuzco. I could definitely be a jungle woman.

the things i love

I am having some trouble keeping up with this blog-- not because I don't enjoy narrating my excursions, but because I find it difficult to capture how amazing Peru really is. It's hard to explain how much fun I am having or to quantify the number of times that I have laughed uncontrollably. Every day is exciting to me, even though nothing spectacular may have happened at all. I love being able to speak spanish, I love being able to buy fresh popcorn in the street for 30 centimos ($0.10!!!), I love being able to hang out in a plaza surrounded by beautiful churches, I love meeting incredibly awesome people, and I love dancing the night away in the discotecas. At the same time, I love knowing that I will return home, I love knowing that my awesome boyfriend is going to meet me in Argentina, I love knowing that I will return to hot showers, I love knowing that I will day party at shell with my baaaaabes, and I love knowing that I will return to bikram yoga. Of course I miss all of the things I have in California, but their effect on me is minimal because I know that I will not be in Peru forever. What I am experiencing is amazing--unfathomable. My worries of family and friends do not bother me because I know that in a month I will return to all of these wonderful things that I love so much. So for the time being, I am trying to experience all the things I love about Peru to the fullest.

Lake Titticacca

My past weekend consisted of an 8 hour bus ride to Lake Titicacca to see the odd floating islands and take a road trip to Puno. Normally, I am not one for road trips, but I feel like anything goes on this trip. My whole life is upside down, but it is something that I inexplicably enjoy. Our weekend getaway to Lake Titicacca made me want to drive across the United States and stop in every state along the way. I want to see and touch everything I possibly can!

My adventure began at 8am Friday morning, when we boarded the buses and embarked for Puno. Like a little girl in middle school, I , of course, scouted out a seat in the back of the bus. I slept for the first half of the trip, in attempt to regain the sleep I skimped out on the night before. For the remaining four hours of the bus ride, the "cool kids" in the back played asshole and drank the traditional Pisco Sour, which is much like Peru's version of tequila. The whole ride was a blast... or at least it was for us. And thanks to a few obnoxious rules, I think the people at the front of the bus may have thought we had teretz.

We finally made it to Puno around 5, ate dinner, had a couple cocktails and called it an early night. In the morning we took a boat to the floating islands, which had to be one of the strangest things I have ever encountered. There is a population of semi-Indigenous people, who live on floating islands which are man made from straw. Their houses are made from straw, their beds are made from straw, their boats are made from straw, everything is made of straw!! The only reason why I classify these people as semi-Indigenous is because I saw that they had a tv in their house. I'm curious as to whether these people are still content with their lives or if they are inevitably stuck on those islands thanks to tourism.

Luckily, we weren't spending the night on the floating islands. We boated for another 3 hours across Lake Titticacca to a more civilized island. Of course, we stopped along the way to jump into the world's highest navigable lake. It was awesomely painful. As soon as I jumped off the boat, I swam as fast as I could to the edge and flopped on deck like a fish out of water. Just how cold the water was, I couldn't tell you because my body went numb, but as some sort of an indicator, it ended up snowing later that night.

We spent our night on the island dancing with the natives and drinking "Macho tea," which is a deliciously spiked tea. We woke up the next morning, only to return back to Cuzco. A short adventure for the long travel time, but the uncanny of it all definitely made it a fun and remarkable trip.

a day of rest

Last Sunday, I went to the lake with my host family. It was such a fun and relaxing day. We ate lunch, drank a couple beers, and played volleyball with the kids. I really enjoy that I have nothing to worry about while I am here. Everything is so simple, and I have more time to enjoy life. I wish things could be that way when I return to the States. I miss going to the lake with my parents and hanging out all day, without a care in the world.

night life

Whether you come from a culture that is monochronic or polychronic, individualist or collectivist, feminine or masculine, the one thing everyone can enjoy is the art of drinking. As an American, I would have to say that drinking is shared trait among our citizens. Come Friday, after a long week of work, a cocktail is all that lies ahead in our near future. On a warm sunny day nothing is more refreshing than an ice cold beer. And of course, you can't have a super bowl party without your 30 pack of beer. I used to think in Americans knew how to drink... until I came to Peru.

Los Peruanas know how to party! It seems like the two weeks that I have been here have been one everlasting party. Every morning I wake up to fireworks at 7am to celebrate the 100 year anniversary of Cuzco (why in the morning when you can't see them, I have no idea). On my home from school, there is usually a parade of people walking around carrying a cross, followed by a band. At night in the plaza, there are traditional dances with light shows to the drumming of the Indigenous people. One night my roommate and I were pulled into an ally where tons of local people were drinking and dancing to the music. It's crazy here and everyone is always so happy to celebrate something, anything! Within the two weeks that I have been here, we have already had three days off either due to a holiday or a festival. Friday was the Inti Raymi festival, which was awesome! It was somewhat like the Peru version of coachella but with a llama sacrifice as the main attraction, rather than music. There was thousands of people at this event and everyone was drinking cervezas having a grand old time. Like I said, Los Peruanas know how to party!

Needless to say, the times I have gone out with friends have been a blast. The clubs don't close at 2am like the amateur clubs in America do, and therefore it is extremely easy to dance the night away. I went salsa dancing for the first time and it was amazing! I love watching people salsa dance because it is so much more artistic than the bump and grind found in the states. While there maybe less grinding, there is much more sexual tension in salsa. The other night, as I was attempting to teach my two left feet to salsa dance, an old man grabbed me and twirled me across the dance floor. Luckily for me, I only had to follow his lead and pretend like I knew what I was doing. Those three minutes were the most fun I have had dancing in a long time, and now I am determined to learn how to salsa dance.

Of course, not all of the clubs in Peru are strictly for salsa dancing. Los Peruanas love American music and the other night there was a Pink Floyd cover band playing at one of the bars, who was surprisingly very good. Overall the night life has been fun, but I have some learning to do!

tiempo

I’ve only been in Peru for a week, but it feels like months. I have accustomed to the culture and everyday life in Peru much faster than I anticipated, and with little culture shock. I think the biggest transformation I have undergone (and will continue to experience) has to do with my concept of time. I am so accustomed to the mono-chronic sense of time that majority, if not all Americans, share. In America, our time is precious and promptness is expected. We orient our day around how much time we have, giving ourselves small windows to complete each task at hand. Day in and day out it’s: wake up at 6, eat breakfast at 6:30, leave for class by 6:45, learn from 7-11, work from 12-5, eat dinner at 6, homework from 7-10, and finally, I squeeze in a two hour workout before the day is done. Because of my task orientated and time structured lifestyle, there is little time for enjoyment.

Our concept of time affects our relationships as well. If someone is an hour late to an event or changes plans last minute, we consider it an insult. We become frustrated and those precious thirty to six minutes that we were forced to wait quickly escalate into 120 minutes of fighting.

In Peru, as with most Latin American cultures, their concept of time is much different and certainly more tranquil. Los Peruanas prefer spending two hours for lunch with their family, rather than rapidly scarfing their food down while driving or working at their office. In fact, practically the whole town shuts down from 1-3, so they don’t even have the option to eat while at work. Their poly-chronic sense of time indicates that they can be easily distracted, without a schedule to follow. Plans are often made and changing right until the very moment. Los Peruanas are more concerned with finishing a task or engagement and completely disregard the time it takes. Dinner Monday night with my family is the perfect example. It was the birthday of mi madre peruana and we had family and friends over for dinner. Dinner lasted until 11 at night, and not once did the kids ask to be excused to finish their homework. Their time with the family was more important than finishing their homework, and if there wasn’t time to do there homework, they weren’t going to try to squeeze it in.

Although I see the benefits and downsides to both a mono-chronic and poly-chronic sense of time, I’ll have to admit the poly-chronic sense of time is much less stressful. And while I am enjoying this new sense of time, when I return to the States I’m certain I will continue with my mono-chronic sense of time because there is nothing more satisfying than crossing everything off on your to-do list; however, I will take back with me a better understanding for the concept of time. Hopefully, I will remember that it is not so important and to not stress out or become frustrated if someone does not return my call promptly.

la escuela

This week, I finally started my classes, and man are they are exhausting. I go to school at nine in the morning and study Spanish for four hours, until I return home for lunch at one. Lunch is from one to three, and it usually takes the entire two hours. After lunch I return back to school for four more hours of intercultural communication and politics in Peru. When I finally return at seven, I eat dinner (sometimes), do my homework, and go to bed. There isn't much time to do much else.

Although, the amount of time I spend in class is overwhelming, everything I am learning is quite stimulating. Surprisingly, my four hours of Spanish class seem to fly by. There are only two other students, which is awesome and extremely helpful. I feel very fortunate to have a learning experience so intimate. As for my other two classes, they do not go by nearly as fast but nevertheless they are still interesting. I particularly like learning about the politics in Peru because they just elected a new president, which has caused a lot of controversy and uncertainty.

At first, this schedule did not agree with me. I wanted to go out at night and see the city; I most certainly did not want to be in class until seven. Fortunately enough, we only have class three times a week so it really is less painful than it seems.

the way life should be

Today we went to Pisac, and it was absolutely amazing! Unlike yesterday’s excursion, our trip to Pisac was much more adventurous and within my attention span. Pisac is an old Inca city built on the peak of a mountain. The work and dedication that went into building an entire city at 11,000 ft above sea level is incredible; never in my life have I seen or experienced something so grand. The views from the top of the city are breathtaking, but what I found most interesting about the old Inca city is their trail. The Inca trail spans across 400,000 kilometers and was taken on a regular basis to deliver messages and food. Fortunately enough for me, I was able to experience the Inca trail for three hours today, as we hiked to the city of Pisac.

For the most part, I think that traveling with large groups is a burden, but I made sure that was not the case today. I scurried to the front of the group to insure that I would not be stuck behind the tortoise. As I hiked through the ruins, climbing and descending time after time, I couldn’t help but give into my legs. They flung out in front of me with little control, guiding me from rock to rock. I couldn’t help myself but to run and leap. After yesterday’s excursion, I was dying to explore and I wasn’t about to waste any time.

Finally after a wonderful and exciting three hours (although I have to admit, I paused my adventure to act like a tourist and take way too many pictures), we finally reached the city of Pisac. There we had lunch and browsed the open air market. I practiced my spanish and bargaining skills, and as proof to my success, I bought a turquoise ring for 18 soles (about $6).

After a superb day experiencing the wonders of Peru, I returned home to a relaxing and enjoyable night with my family Peruana. I helped Claudia with her math homework and then introduced her to Chromeo. Later, my family and I walked to the supermarcado, drank tea, and watched The Pursuit of Happiness dubbed in Spanish.

There is something calming to the life of Peru. When I think of my life back in the United States, I need a cup of coffee. School. Work. Gym. Homework. All I can think about is when I will find the time to fit all of this in one day, every day. Here in Peru, time is not so relevant, and no one is in a rush. You would never expect the person behind you in line at the grocery store to sigh or grumble if you have too many groceries or you choose to write a check. Family is important and every meal is shared. People walk everywhere and anywhere, sometimes walking just to walk and talk. I like it here, its peaceful. It’s simple. It’s how life should be.

an old-time playground

Today we had a field trip to Sacsayhuman, or as Dr. Knight's son called it, "an old time playground." Sacsayhuman is what is left of an old Inca temple. It rests on a hill that overlooks the entire city of Cuzco and is built out of enormous stones that have been pieced together like a puzzle. Some of the rocks form natural slides and seats, a few caves as well, which makes it sort of like "an old time playground."

Sacsayhuman is no Macchu Picchu, but nevertheless, it turned out to be more exciting than I anticipated. When we first arrived to Sacsayhuman, I became somewhat agitated after learning we weren't going to be exploring the ruins by ourselves, but rather we would be lead by a tour guide. There is nothing I despise more than a drawn out guided tour, the ones that constantly are stopping along the way for questions-- that honestly, I have very little interest in. I wish I was one of those people who loved history and could appreciate Sacsayhuman for its background--but I'm not. I don't think its necessarily a bad trait, I just appreciate the beauty of the surrounding nature and the architecture rather than the story that lies behind it. When I go to a new place, I want to explore! I like seeing the views, exploring the caves, hiking up to the top, and climbing on rocks. I would rather experience a place for what it is, than be told about it.

Fortunately enough, my dream came true when our tour guide gave us an hour of free time; it wasn't until then that I could actually appreciate Sacsayhuman. I was free to scale rocks, walk through dark caves, and even take pictures with a donkey and a llama (all of which I did). I loved every minute I had to explore, but interestingly enough, the my favorite part of my trip to this "old time playground" had little to do with exploring.

As I hiked up to the top of a hill, where the view of Cuzco was clear and the city was protected by a large statue of Jesus, I met an old Quechuan man. (Quechua is the original language of the Inca's). I have never seen someone who loved life, their heritage, and their city more than this old Quechuan man. He sat at the top of the hill with nothing but a smile and his guitar. After talking with the man for a while and telling him I was for the United States, he sang a song for me: la bonita mujer de los estados unidos de californie. This jolly old man was awesome in so many ways, but what I loved most about him was that he expected nothing in return. In Peru, craftsman constantly bombard you with solicitation. There are even women walking around the streets with llamas offering pictures with them for un sol (the currency of Peru); however this was not the case for the old Quechan man. This old man was offering a service, but expected nothing in return. He sang solely because he loved to sing and wanted the tourists to enjoy their visit.

This old Quechan man embodied the spirit of life and represented the idea I have always had about foreign culture. The idea that there is little to worry about so long as you are happy and making other people happy in doing something that you love.

mi familia peruana

Today I met my host family. Like any American placed in a situation which forces conversation with strangers, I was uncomfortable. Now add a language barrier to that equation and you have one uncomfortable and extremely nervous American. Of course, however, I had nothing to worry about. I mean after all, we are talking about "Peruanas" (not Peruvians as I learned tonight at dinner)-- the people who come home for two hours to eat lunch, the people who walk around in the city after dinner with family and friends, and the people who are most friendly.

Upon my arrival to where I will be living for the next month, I met my host mom, Ida. Her husband works in the medical field and travels a lot for his profession, so I will not meet him until the weekend. Ida and her husband have four children--two who are my age or older and have already moved out. They have two younger children Claudia, 13, and Jorge, 11.

Ida showed us around her house and let us unpack while she finished lunch--rice, chicken, potatoes, tomatoes, and jello for dessert. In Peru it is common to have a large lunch and then only milk and crackers for dinner. Lunch lasted from one in the afternoon until three. Fortunately enough, my spanish came back to me instantly. I was so excited that I could sit with my host mom for two hours and not have a moment of silence. I even translated a few times for my roommate who is not as comfortable with spanish. Of course I presume most of my spanish was incorrect or fragmented, but it was empowering to be able to communicate.

After lunch, I took a nap. When I woke up, my roommate and I walked downtown with our host family. Most Peruanas walk around the city of Cuzco at night, and I enjoyed it a lot. We stopped for some fresh liminoda and then returned a casa. For dinner I had crackers and cocoa de te, which is a tea that is supposed to help with the altitude. Suprisingly, I am not hungry and completely satisfied. I don't even have a sweet tooth, which is a rare occassion.

Overall, I had a very enjoyable day. I am happy I am staying with a host family. It forces me to speak spanish and I am certain I will learn more by living with a host family. After today, I am extremely excited to learn spanish, and I am determined to be fluent in Spanish by the end of my trip.

el primer dia

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.