« Change is in the air | Main | Now without headache! »
March 06, 2005
Perú, Perú
No life transition is complete without a soul-searching vacation. I have chosen to take mine in Cuzco, Perú to see the famous Incan ruins of Machu Picchu!
In my true last minute way, I booked my ticket on Wednesday to leave on Saturday, and paid the premium for my lateness. I was debating whether Cancun, Key West, or Perú would be the place for me, but I quickly remembered how I like to vacation: adventurously. It turns out it's even more adventuresome than I bargained for, as it turns out that Perú is having its wet season now. Grrrreat. So I got all the equipment one could ever need for a full-fledged trek through the selva in torrential downpours.
Leaving San Francisco was relatively unmomentous. I was late by my standards, but got to the airport in plenty of time. I tried to identify people who may be continuing on to Cuzco, but the only people I could identify were two girls wearing North Face jackets, and I haven't seen them since. Guess my vacationdar is off.
The airport in Lima was very attractively done with pleasant yellow signage and gray marble floors. I didn't expect anything different, but it was more European than I had expected.
Arriving in Cuzco brought my first misfortune, albeit a small one. The sternum strap on my brand new Gregory pack was complete in Lima, but only 50% of it arrived in Cuzco. Makes it pretty difficult to trek without full support, as I learned throughout the fitting process. I feel good that this has been the worst of my misfortune -- thus far.
I pored over the tourist books I bought in the plane, and circled several hostels I would stay at. The first one I visited -- Teqsiqocha Hostal -- asked for US$30, although my book says their price is US$15 for a single. I showed the kid at the desk my book and he feigned stupid. He agreed to the $15 and showed me the room, which was actually a double, looked downright dusty and musty, and boasted a team of flies. He offered US$10 and I jetted.
I continued up the hill away from the Plaza de Armas to Hostal Q'aHuarina, which the book claims to be modern, efficient, and to offer only six rooms. My kind of place, I thought, and that it was. The woman was sweet and kind, and asked for US$15, less than the US$18 the book said I should expect to pay.
My room has an attached bathroom, is painted in nice colors, has a few windows, and a decent bed. There is "agua caliente" in my room, but I would soon call it lukewarm at best. The shower was still welcomed.
While I was unpacking, I continually heard some kind of brass band, which I then set off to locate. I thought it must be a church, seeing as how it was Sunday morning, but in fact there was a massive event going on in the square (Plaza de Armas). I made my way back down and took pictures with some discretion, as indigineous Peruvians are that famed culture that thinks that taking a photograph is to steal their soul. But once I saw many others taking photos, I adjusted my policy.
The event was way over the top, complete with sponsorship from the Cuzco beer, Cusqueño; a stand for what seemed like it may have been the mayor; parades of various organizations who carried felt banners; and herds of military men marching in synch. I was able to wander freely about the whole place unscathed. Clearly no one cared where I was. I was even able to go behind the person at the podium without difficulty. It was a pretty amazing environment to be in, where people can be so celebratory and even carefree.
I then went to Trotamundos for a bite to eat, and to continue to watch the procession from the balcony. Turns out at least one of the purposes of the event was the Día de la Mujer (Day of the Woman), which is actually tomorrow, March 8. This all made sense until I saw a float with a sign that read, "Unete a la proteccíon del patrimonio" (unify for the protection of the patrimony). Maybe there was something going on I just didn't catch.
Otherwise, my Spanish is serving me brilliantly. I was able to converse with the taxi driver nearly fluently on our way into the city, and he complimented me profusely on my pronunciation.
And while I sat in the square writing in my paper (!) journal, little kids continually came up to me proffering their goods. I always made an effort to engage in a conversation with them, and in one instance, even gave a geography lesson to a girl and sang her "Wenn ich mal ungedultig werd'." Que spannend!
Plan so far is to hang here until Tuesday and set out on the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu on Tuesday. I am counting the hours.
Posted by bengel at March 6, 2005 11:28 AM
Comments
Tre cool, Mr.
Sending this comment from Montreal, it is cool that we are both in Norte Americano and not in English-speaking regions.
Posted by: brett lider at March 6, 2005 01:30 PM