Viajera solita

BOLIVIA

Next stop: Bolivia. I left the other girls with a German, dread-locked friend we made at the bus station to catch my bus for La Paz. I was on my own. Ahh! I was on my own!

It didn’t end up being that scary really, in fact a lot of what’s between Puno and La Paz is considerably more flat than Cusco. My first bus was a group of students from all over the world (Israel, Korea, England, Denmark, and Switzerland to name a few) all taking a bus to Copacabana, Bolivia which is just over the border. The border wasn’t so eventful, just some stamps and a little kid who spoke all kinds of languages just from working selling cigarettes and candy there on the border line. I felt somehow less worried or daunted being with a group of people my own age all in it for the adventure and excitement! Of course, none of them seemed to be traveling alone.

We made it to Copacabana in time for the sunset at which point the seven or eight of us NOT going to Copacabana were informed we had to switch buses. Okay, no one mentioned this! Stay calm. We got on a bus full of jolly traveling Peruvians and continued on our way. It quickly became dark, and in what seemed like the middle of the night the bus came to a halt. Tired, disgruntled Peruvians filed off the bus as if stopping here is routine. Well. Okay. Maybe this is a bathroom break? The seven of us silly tourist students left on the bus were next informed that we would be getting off to take a boat. A boat?! What?! Are we at the ocean? No one said anything about a boat! But we filed off, me taking all my luggage and wondering if I would be stranded in a strange Bolivian city. Turns out there is a small stretch of water (El Estrecho de Tiquina if you ever travel from Peru to Bolivia) that you must cross to save four hours of driving time to La Paz! It costs 1 Boliviano and 50 centimos and you get an exciting midnight boat ride (or daylight, of course)! It ended up being beautiful to sit there with the other student travelers (we had a boat to ourselves because we were the clueless ones who got on last) under the starry, starry sky of the Southern Hemisphere.

It turned out the 3 Koreans in the boat were filming a documentary as a final project for school. They were very energetic and talkative, and spoke English quite well but very little Spanish. One of the guys was the camera man and another was going around the boat asking for the complete story of all present. What? You’re from Kentucky? KENTUCKY FRY CHICKEN! Without fail that is what they know of Kentucky. When the Swiss couple across from me (French Switzerland, sorry Jesse) realized I was traveling alone they were impressed. You’re traveling alone?! You must be so brave! Yes, they too spoke English as did the entire student bus. We really need to catch up to this knowing more than one language phenomenon! Their comments only made me feel more alone and frightened as I glanced at my watch and realized my chances of making it to La Paz to catch the last bus for Oruro were pretty slim…

Needless to say, we made it across, and the bus went in its own little boat and then we all piled on for the rest of the ride. When we got to La Paz, I asked a cab driver if he knew when the last bus would leave for Oruro. He seemed to think there was one left (this was at 10:30), so I decided to make a run for it despite offers from the friendly Swiss folk to share a cab to the main square and help me find hostel. I ran into the bus terminal (a big, fancy yellow one like a girl from Cusco has never seen!) only to hear the ladies singing out another city name. I asked hopefully, “Oruro?” but the lady just shook her head and said “Ya no hay!” And that’s when it hit me. I was alone in a city of a million people. I had no guide book, no idea of a hostel, and no internet café to check for the one Tiffany had sent me. There were lots of lights and endless hills of lit up houses and plenty of areas that were probably dangerous that I had no clue about. I started to panic. But, behold, I saw the light of the information booth and I knew what I had to do. I asked the woman for a safe hostel. She pointed across the street to a place called El Tambo de Oro or something like that. So I went, with my bags, asked for a room, called Tiffany using a funky calling card with a chip that I bought from the front desk, and went to sleep.

It’s nice to know in some ways that I am capable of traveling alone at night in a foreign country without getting mugged or having a nervous break down or wandering into the wrong side of town. But do I want to do it again anytime soon? No way. I much prefer traveling with someone I trust. Is that the State Farm motto? Sorry. But really, I love traveling, but not alone. I want someone to laugh with and take pictures with and chuckle about that unexpected boat with! What is a trip without a friend? Lonely.

I finally made it to Oruro the next morning (and learned that a bus filled to capacity is not really to capacity if the aisle isn’t filled as well) and my friend Tiffany at the bus terminal. I felt so at ease to see a familiar place and know that I was safe and not alone. She introduced me to her peace corps friends and peace corps life, as well as the decidedly non-touristy destination of Oruro. We ate pizza and had beers and watched Grey’s Anatomy (sometimes sitcoms from the homeland can be extremely comforting, okay?!). The next day we went to Huari, the town where she is living in the altiplano of Bolivia. The altiplano, as you may guess, is high and flat. It’s a desert climate. There aren’t many trees. But there is a beer factory and one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen and plenty of kids to run after Tiffany crying, “Profe!” They really do ask where she has lost herself when she is gone. She is the local gringa celebrity. She lives in a purple house and cooks gourmet meals on her miniature stove and has learned to save water because a lot of the time during the day there is no running water. I enjoyed my time with her a great deal, and was glad to have been brave enough to travel alone to visit her even for a short time! I even got to go with her to buy her bicycle in La Paz!

So I returned home, this time on what claimed to be a direct bus but didn’t turn out to be (we had to switch yet again when we got to Peru). I sat next to a nice Irish girl who happened to also be traveling alone in South America! I also talked to a Norwegian girl who would soon be visiting Houston, Texas and who missed chocolate a great deal and had not even a hint of an accent in her English. It was a much more tranquil period of travel, even when the woman took my ticket and never gave it back and I had to explain that to the ticket guy when we changed buses…

I was so unbelievably relieved to be back in Peru. Cusco really felt like home to me, and just being here and knowing I would soon be in my own bed under the Van Gogh copy done by Edson with my host family who takes care of me and worried an amazing amount about my terrible sunburn. Home, sweet home. At least for now.

Puno Quema

Hello everyone!

So as you may have noticed it’s been a really long time since I’ve written.

And I have a lot to fill you in on! So I’m going to separate it into different blog entries for organization's sake and so you don’t have to read it in one solid sit at the computer.

I have good news about my camera! It’s fixed. The day before I left for Bolivia (as much a procrastinator as ever), Evelyn’s younger sister Suci (I believe her full name is Suciel or something along those lines) was kind enough to take me to her friend who knows how to fix cameras. Evelyn was actually the one who called him up and she only referred to me as a friend so he wouldn’t know I was a gringa and give me a gringa price. Or maybe just because I am a friend. Anyway, Suci took me to this guy’s house. We went into a weird dark garage-like room and he looked at my camera. He didn’t know if he could, but he agreed to try to fix that day for the low low price of 60 soles (which is 20 bucks, so literally, a steal). Later I went back with Edson and he had fixed it! Hooray! I couldn’t believe it! It felt like a miracle. I mean, can you imagine getting a camera fixed for that cheap in the US? I sure can’t.

So I was ready to depart. I packed up all the traveling essentials (which ended up fitting in a small duffel bag and my backpack, and prepared to leave that night for Puno, Peru which is a town right on Lake Titicaca in the southern part of the country. I traveled to Puno with three other girls from my group: Amy, Emily, and Michelle. It was my first cross-country South American bus ride! Relatively uneventful. We got to Puno at about 5:30 in the morning on the day of Peru’s census. For the census everyone has to be shut up in their homes so almost nothing is open. We were able to eat breakfast at a little restaurant at the bus terminal. From there, we hauled our bags to the port to find out about visiting some of the islands on the lake. We found a guy who offered to let us stay on his island called something with an A (I’ll look it up for you), which is a four hour boat ride from Puno. So we went! Unfortunately, my sunscreen-slathering ways didn’t protect me from the terrible sun rays reflecting off the lake (which is huge, by the way… at times you can’t see the other side and it feels like the ocean) while I was sleeping with my arms flung over the side of the boat and my shirt riding up on either side. I ended up getting the worst sunburn of my life, one on each side right above my hips. Just perfect for pants-wearing. Later it blistered and peeled and screamed, but you probably don’t want to know about all that.

First we stopped at the Uros which are a small group of man-made floating islands. They’re really cool and made out of some kind of masses of organic matter and carpeted with reeds. They use the reeds to build their houses, build their boats, build their islands, make cool crafty reed things for the tourists, and sometimes they even eat them! I tried the reeds, and they tasted a lot like celery, only they were spongier. One of the men on the island we visited gave us a spiel about how they live and then we ooed and aawed at the reediness of everything and then we left. We made it to the A island where we stayed with a woman who seemed perturbed that we would only be paying for one meal as we had brought food for the rest. For that reason, she generally laughed menacingly at everything we said and made herself an enemy. The island wasn’t all that exciting, while obviously extremely beautiful. It seems almost the entirely livelihood of the place is tourism. We walked all around and watched the sunset. We talked to the sheep that the woman we stayed with (Serafina) owns. They were nice. Then we slept (me on my stomach since there was no sleeping on my sides this time) and got up early to take the boat back to Puno. This time I stayed inside.

Estoy en Bolivia

I'M IN BOLIVIA

More on the unexpected boat ride, cranky island hostess, Korean documentary, and lonely hostal room when I have time. Until then: I'm safe!

Taxistas, Bolivia, Vida

¡Saludos a todos!

I know I've been a lame blog writer lately, but I promise I will make it up to you as soon as I have hours of internet time to write my usual novels. You're in luck! I think that time might be now... ;)

Yesterday I took a cab to class (I was late, as I nearly always am so I can never take a kombi... but luckily ProPeru gives us transportation money so I'm not hurting from the extra US cents) and it was probably the nicest cab driver I've had yet. He was extremely talkative. Mostly he was talking about the Peru and Chile soccer match. He predicted that we would all be crying because Chile would win. Then he dropped me off and commented that I didn't have an umbrella. Cabs who care. I know it's weird, but I always feel that much safer when I'm in a cab covered in Catholic virgin regalia. I feel like all the saints hanging out in the cab can probably help me out in the daily bumper car ride that is traffic in Cusco. A lot of times I'll get drivers who like to charge me an extra sol (alright, so it's definitely less than a dollar, but it seems like a rip off here) because I'm a blonde, blue-eyed gringa... or just because they know they can. You really never know what you're going to get in these cabs. Sometimes they have nice leopard print seats. One time I got in and the seat was all wet because the person before me had spilled coffee. I kind of wished I hadn't told the cab driver when he started reaching back with a wad of toilet paper to try to clean it up while driving with his other hand... This afternoon I had a guy that seemed to be about ready to retire. I was a little worried that we weren't going to make it to Tullumayu anytime this century. All the cabs are the same make and model here (and right now I can't seem to conjure it... sometimes I just don't speak English and I'm sticking to that excuse) except for the luxury cabs which are usually white and not so luxurious (just bigger and station wagon-esque).

In the end, Perú lost just like the cab driver said. Everyone was sad. Caroline had the nerve to send me an email this evening from Chile with the fact that we were defeated right there. Okay, who am I kidding? I didn't watch the game at all... Edson has confessed that he doesn't like fútbol (which is definitely a rare thing here) but he sometimes watches the games so he can make comments about it with his buddies at work (who are all fanatics like good Peruvians).

This coming week is our break, so I'm planning to go to Bolivia and visit my friend Tiffany who is there working for the Peace Corps. I'm pretty excited about seeing her and seeing Bolivia! Denis may or may not be accompanying me. I'm hoping she will. I'm also hoping that I won't end up as one of the bodies under blankets that I keep seeing when they show bus wrecks on the news (don't let my mom read that part). Maria has advised me that there are certain bus lines less likely to crash. And there is also an autopista (highway) at least all the way to Puno on Lake Titicaca.

What other fascinating details can I share? Today for lunch I had ceviche, which I love (for those of you who don't know, I've been eating fish while I've been here), but for some reason I couldn't eat it all today. I think it was because Maria brought out some very green seaweed that smelled like Maine. Yum, a big lunch of the smell of Maine. Bon apetit! Also, the white picket fence in front of our house is broken. Someone came to the door to inform us this afternoon.

I've been told to elaborate on my family's visit. My dad's Spanish was pretty hilarious, complete with "solos" rather than soles and "papa fritos" rather than papas fritas. But you've got to give him a hand for trying. When I was with them I remembered that I'm really not Cusqueñan. I'm really a freakishly pale young woman who doesn't know what's going on about half the time but whose Spanish is really improving! I must admit I was pretty annoyed when my dad started talking to one of the little boys claiming to be Pablo Picasso that was selling postcards in the plaza one afternoon and actually bought postcards from him. But for the most part I really enjoyed being able to see my family. I miss them more than I let on.

I was impressed with Stephanie's ability to pick up and use some Spanish even after only a few days in Cusco. She should have stayed longer! One night (the night before Steph and my parents were leaving for Machu Picchu at the crack of dawn), Edson, Evelyn, and I took Steph out to experience the night life in Cusco. I really enjoyed it this time, more than I've ever enjoyed going out with the group. It was just so much more relaxed and fun. I was a little irked that Edson insisted on paying for everything, but more and more I'm learning to ignore the machismo society and just try to take deep breaths. Haha. I found out recently that there is a new Gender and Women's Studies faculty who has done a lot of research on domestic violence in Perú, so I'm hoping to talk to her in order to spill all my issues with the roles of women in this country when I get home.

Today in Political Science class we had a guest speaker who was talking about the process of decentralization that they are trying to go through (quite slowly) in Perú. If you didn't know, Perú has no stable form of regional govenment (I guess the best comparison is to state governments), so the major political power, economy, and population center of the country is in Lima. In the other regions of the country, lack of development reigns. They do have local governments in the provinces and districts, but for the most part Lima is able to control things from a different and move happily forward with 9 million residents while the rest of the country suffers. It sort of baffles me that Perú doesn't have an infrastructure similar to our states, but due to the tumultuos history of governments and corruption, it shouldn't be all that surprising. For over 50 years, Perú has been in a process of attempting decentralization. Unfortunately, the regional governments are always weak and have little respect. There is an elected president of the region who then selects 13 of his friends (no matter their qualifications) to be the "consejos" and wine and dine on the money allotted to the regions. Also, the various presidents that come in and out and change constitutions as they please (Fujimori again... he must have become a target of mine) can also choose to wipe out these regional governments. So the sierra and the selva remain underdeveloped. This, my friends, is part of why Rocío doesn't bathe and one of the little boys at Conchacalla clearly has a parasite. Development is a powerful thing in terms of education and health. Too bad Alan Garcia doesn't have a vision to really help these kids.

If you're wondering about my personal well being, my morale remains relatively high when I'm not frustrated about homework or missing my boyfriend or my family or all of my friends. Haha. There have been some rocky days, but I think my host family has made all the difference. Also, I believe I'm learning a lot. They say my Spanish is improving! And I'm definitely getting a whole new perspective on my home country. I have to say, seeing on BBC World that George Bush mentioned World War III does not help matters. But that is precisely why they tell you to study abroad right, to expand your horizons and develop a broader world view! So that's what I'm doing. I'll let you know what else I learn.

Mucho tiempo sin hablar

Hello again! It's been awhile since I've written, mostly because internet opportunities have been a lot shorter and I haven't felt I've had time to write an entry.

There are about a trillion things that have happened, as you can imagine. My parents and Steph were able to come for a visit which I really enjoyed. I think they had a great time too, and it seemed like my host family here was overjoyed to be able to meet them and spend time with them. The language barrier didn't end up being nearly as big as a problem as I had worried, especially when Evelyn was around to help me translate. Denis, as usual, was a godsend who took them around on a day when she didn't have class until late afternoon. I'm not quite sure what I would do without her!

We have been back to Conchacalla twice since I last wrote, the first time we carried giant Eucalyptus logs from down the mountain to the top to use to build the techo (roof) of the bathrooms. We ended up riding in the back of a giant pickup truck along with all of the logs (which was terrifying, but an experience I probably won't have anywhere else) and then carrying them after the truck could go no further. I still really enjoy going there, as concerned as I am about these little kids running around with torn clothing, damaged teeth, and dry, cracked, dirty skin. They really do make the whole process more enjoyable. This past week Rocío (who has become the favorite of the entire group quite quickly) giggled for a very, very long time as she was playing with us and her older sister, Jobana (that's my guess at the spelling). She was hilarious... she has the most wonderful laugh and smile, it's impossible not to love her.

Last night I decided to go out again with the group, which I must confess is something I never particularly enjoy. A lot of the other girls seem to be looking to make out with a Peruvian boy they've never met and running around to all sorts of different bars, and that doesn't appeal to me much. I miss being able to be on Grosvenor with my friends in a more relaxed and safer environment. Although we have found an excellent place to get really good late night falafel (and falafel is certainly not plentiful in Cusco) from a little stand and a guy named Victor. That is what I look forward to when we go out, and Garabatos if we ever get around to going there (it's the best place out there but people are starting to explain it's too expensive... by Peruvian standards, yes, but certainly not by ours...). I'm looking forward to the party we'll probably have at John and Gina's on my birthday to celebrate Halloween and my birthday and Dane's. I'm hoping I will enjoy that more!

Well, I'm off for now. But I have more to say!

Fotos por fin

For any of you who don't have facebook, I have finally gotten my act together and posted some photos! I hope this link works and that you enjoy them. The captions will have to come later.

http://utk.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2160628&l=54987&id=12900100

Espera

I forgot to mention in that last entry that my camera lense refuses to close. I was telling John and Gina about it the other night(John and Gina are friends of Edson and Evelyn who are also the host family of Dane, another volunteer in the group), and Gina just looked at me and said, "Espera". Apparently the same thing happened with their Sony camera, and after a week it started working again. I'm hoping for the best here.

That same night I got the pleasure of listening to two solid hours of Peruvian karaoke and songs that I'd never heard. It was quite an experience, but I especially enjoyed one of the songs that was some kind of patriotic anthem. According to the song, here is what PERU stands for:

P de patria
E del ejemplo
R de rifle
U de union

So now you know, in case you are wondering.

In terms of Fujimori (I must be giving you his biography), I learned today in political science that under his government there were forced sterilizations done of women in the campo. After these women had the operations performed on them, they had to give the doctors gifts in exchange for the service. All of this was done in order to follow the rules of the United Nation in terms of slowing the growth of Latin America (which was growing quite rapidly). Depressing, eh?

The worst part is this is supposedly continued today...