I am in Peru. It´s pretty much the same. The fanfare I was expecting from the people who don´t know me hasn´t exactly come yet, but when I make it to Sorochuco tomorrow, I´m sure there will be this huge party because everyone has been missing me. Like for example the 2 guys I met today in Cajamarca city from Sorochuco who asked me if I was returning tomorrow. After I said "yeah, I´ve been gone for 2 months" they didn´t notice one bit and I got a blank stare and a slap on the back. So maybe me worrying about my Sorochucinos is a bit unwarranted.
The trip here to Cajamarca has been long and full of dead stuffed snakes, ice cream and Alleve, but not necessarily in that order. So I´ll start at the beginning, which was last Tuesday, the 8th of May.
I left my home that morning after an awful goodbye to the family. It was like the first time I left them, but worse. I don´t know anyone who goes to Peru, let alone goes to Peru twice, so when my uncle was pulling out of the driveway, I asked him if I should stay and then decided that if Im needed at home, I´ll come a-running. After 2 hours, we pulled up to Newardk airport and I bade a tearful good-bye to my uncle and the oil refineries which line the northern part of our state. There is only a small section on the New Jersey turnpike which gives all you non-Jersians out there this leverage to make fun of us because you happen to have seen an episode of the Sopranos and watched a Tonight Show monologue.
Diatribe aside, I hung out in the airport and boarded my flight to Atlanta. The trip started when I had to put on my clunky big boots because I was way weighed down and looked like the ultimate tourist struggling with all my random paperwork and dorky vest. I was pulled out of line and told by a security guard that they´d have to check me. Of course, this was done AS the guy was pulling on a pair of rubber gloves which didn´t make me feel too comfortable. I was carrying back at least 30 snickers bars, much of which courtesy of my brother. I was nervous about transporting them accross the border and my father suggested I tape them to my chest a la "Midnight Express" but the thought of getting caught with that was too embarassing. The guard opened up all my stuff and proceeded to drop my camera on the ground and cursing loudly, I told him that it wasn´t broken and to make him feel better, we talked cameras for a bit. He told me he needed one because he was missing all the events in his daughter´s life. I agreed that this was the thing to do and shook his gloved hand good-bye and only now realizing that I hope he had washed it.
The flight to Atlanta was frantic because I was then left with 15 minutes to get to my flight. When we landed, I pushed aside everyone else and sprinted for the terminal. It was that scene in "Home Alone" where the family is running through the airport, only without "Run Run Rudolph" playing and complete with me tripping up the escalators because my boots were too big. Computer bag goes flying and laughing erupts. I made it to the plane to Ecuador and was delighted to find out AS WE WERE TAKING OFF that we were going to Quito as opposed to Guayaquil. My bus was out of Guayaquil. Not Quito. The stewardess explained to me that we were going on to Guayaquil and to stop asking dumb questions. So I kicked back and listened to the Yonder Mountain String Band in honor of my brother and watched some movie with Jennifer Garner.
We landed in Quito and then pushed on to Guayaquil, which was only 34 minutes further. Getting off the plane I said to myself "well, I´m here again" and went to find a hotel. I had to specify to the information desk people that I needed one in a safe area of the city and this apparently brought about a different list of hotels. Guayaquil is the biggest city in Ecuador and the last jumping off point for the Galapagos Islands. Every white-skinned person is there to see the Galapagos and as a result, all the people working the desk are used to confused non Spanish-speaking tourists. I had to get back in practice and was able to get a taxi to the "California Hotel" in downtown Guayaquil for $20.
The hotel was South American-ish. I told the guys at the front desk that I needed some water and they told me that I shouldn´t be walking around at night. They pointed to the water jug in the corner and saying a silent prayer to the Girardia gods, I filled up my nalgene and headed upstairs to my room. It had hot water and bad television but thats all I needed. the next morning I got my bus ticket to Piura and walked around downtown Guayaquil to find some breakfast. I was reminded of being back down below the equator. The sights, smells and feelings came back in small doses: the woman selling Gloria yoghurt, the platanos, the stares, the lack of traffic patterns and the way people would go out of their way to get you what you needed, all these things brought back a flood of emotions and memories that the United States had temporarily buried.
I boarded my bus to Piura at 11:30 and met an Australian couple who were doing a year-long tour around the world and were in month 7 or so. They had 4 flights on each continent and were coming down from the Galapagos to hit up Peru again before doing Central America. They didn´t speak a lick of Spanish but had acquired travel skills far beyond mine. The development in resources comes quickly when one is living out a backpack. I spent a good chunk of time hanging out with them between the dubbed Spanish movies and gazing out the window. When the bus crossed at Peru, we helped each other out because nobody knew what to do or where to go for the customs.
The scenery in Ecuador brought me back, but it was different than Peru. Wood houses on raised poles with thatched roofs dotted the landscape and rice patties abounded. It is similar in geography to northern Peru, but has a different vibe altogether. I saw the slums of downtown Guayaquil and smelled the burning wood which reminded me of Peru again and I was anxious to go back. We made it down through Tumbes, Mancora and finally to Piura at 11:30 at night. I almost missed my stop for Piura and was jolted awake by the guy bellowing out my stop. So he unloaded me on the streets of Piura at almost midnight and we bid adieu.
Got to the hotel where I had stayed at previously. I called home and managed to jolt my mother awake, but she was reassured that I was alive and well and said we´d talk tomorrow. As my head was hitting the rock-hard pillow, I realized that it was the 3rd country I had slept in in 3 days. This wasn´t a "cool" revelation, more of a sign of the weariness of travel. When I was fantasizing about leaving for the Peace Corps last year, travel sounded so elusive and exotic. But then you realize its 12 hours on a bus, bad food, watching your luggage and a feeling of being alone. the plus side is that you develop these skills and become better at traveling.
Casey was coming in the following day so I had a day to burn in Piura. I did nothing productive. Bought some fruit for breakfast, ate ice cream and hung out with some of the other volunteers who were there. at 9 or so she rolled in and we moved to the nice hotel for the night before getting back to the hostel for the rest of the time. Air conditioning...buffet breakfast...the overwhelming sense of undeserved entitlement, it was awesome.
Friday was a chill day, as per my previous times in Piura. Casey and I spent the day hanging out in the plaza and eating the ice cream Piura is famous for. I probably ate half my body weight in Ceviche during the next few days. Its a beautiful hot city located in the middle of the desert and looks TOTALLY different than Cajamarca. during the summer, its something like 600 degrees in the shade but now that its cooling off, its much more doable. Outside the city itself is pure sand and desert poverty. You look at these people living in these shacks and wonder what their thought processes were which got them to live there. Its like they came upon a random stretch of the Panamerican highway and noticing the lack of water, access to any type of infrastructure, lack of shade, lack of job availability, place to graze animals and proximity to the exhaust kicked up by the busses, they say "here looks good" and build a reed hut with a tin roof which only exacerbates the heat.
Saturday night we hit a disco. There were several volunteers there and because going to the beach wasn´t doable, we decided to do some salsa dancing. It was an awesome time and I was a fabulous dancer. They played great salsa and electronic music and the strobe lights made everything look super cool. Of course the next morning when we woke up confused and dehydrated with the key still in the lock outside, I remembered flailing my arms frantically and elbowing several Peruvians with my ´skills. I guess this is why nobody asked the inebriated gringos to dance. It was still an awesome time and the practicing that Casey and I did previously helped out. At least we thought so.
On Sunday, Andrew, Alyssa, Casey and I poured into a taxi and went to Catacaos, which is a small town on the outskirts of Piura, famous for its artesian stuff. They had a totally different selection than Cajamarca. There was the usual aresenal of wollen and knitted clothes, but then you´d walk into a stand with a giant stuffed deer outside. Curiosity got the better of me and to my delight, I found a ton of stuffed animals, but not like normal stuffed animals. stuffed pit bulls? stuffed rattlesnakes? stuffed hawks? stuffed snakes with a stuffed lizard in it´s mouth coiling around a stuffed panther? they are all in Catacaos. As we were walking out of the store, Casey commented on how pretty this kitten was sitting on the shelf and I immediatley recoiled in horror at how she could possibly think this poor dead stuffed kitten was pretty. Then it got up and walked away and I felt stupid.
Monday morning I said goodbye and left for Chiclayo. Before leaving for Peru, one of my professors in grad school told me that the Peace Corps would teach me organizational skills I never knew I had. I assumed this meant stuff relating to work. No, she meant in general. This was illustrated perfectly at me walking around to random shops near the bus station and pilfering the sparse napkins to use as toilet paper in the future. I guess she meant that you become more resourceful. And always ALWAYS remember toilet paper when one is traveling.
On the way from Chiclayo to Cajamarca, we stopped at the monkey rest stop and I saw the monkey again. I do now have my digital camera and can upload pics of the monkey. Its great. You´re on this bus for 7 hours in the middle of the desert and then there´s a monkey. And it makes you smile.
Got to Cajamarca at 5:30 yesterday. Met Olivia and David in the plaza and had pollo a la braza. It was great. Tomorrow I am leaving first thing for Sorochuco with a new bed, new tent and ready to get back to life, such as it is. Its been a great few days but very tiring. I´m anxious to get back to a place where I can call home and hope to do something useful with my time.
Until next time.
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