So I´ve fallen behind on blogging again. My apologies. I was pretty sick for a couple of days this week, and while it´s never fun to be sick, it´s definitely more interesting when you have crazy dreams of saving babies and needing to go to the hospital bc your legs have to be amputated. Such was my life after an apparently bad tuna sandwich.
I thought I´d write a little more about Cusco since my last post was quite rushed. I also promise to post another time or two before the weekend is over and I´m incommunicado next week while traveling to Lake Titicaca. So, some observations about Cusco:
--The number of wild dogs has continued to fascinate me. You don´t just see one or two every day, you see 30 or 40. They are everywhere. Some are cute, some are downright dirty. Some are visably pregnant or nursing, and most are just trying to find a place to take a nap. But you have to walk around them as much as you do people on the sidewalks. And resisting the urge to pet them is never easy, but I´ve held back.
--You know how sometimes you´re sitting in your car behind a giant truck and when that truck starts up after a red light all this terrible black smoke comes out from the exhaust pipe? Every single car in this city is like that truck. It´s nuts. My friend here joked with her host family that her 1992 car back in Colorado is so old. Her host mother said that´s fairly new for people in Cusco. It just makes walking tougher because you´re always inhaling smog and dirt and caughing when a car goes by. My clothes probably get dirty twice as fast here as they do at home. And that nice breath of fresh air you take every now and then? I´m gonna have to wait another couple of weeks.
--Haggling is part of the culture here, especially in the major markets. However, I admit I feel terrible when I do it. Everything here is so cheap. Women in the markets will haggle because they still make a profit, but am I really the person (or any American or fortunate citizen from a first world country) who should be saying ¨No, senora, I only want to pay 3 bucks, not 4 for that hat¨? I feel ridiculous, so often times I just take what advertise as the price. But try to gouge me because I look so touristy and I´ll bargain down like it´s my job. The best way, no joke, is to just stare at the product you want and not say anything. I´ve gotten women to take off almost ten bucks just doing that. Sometimes yoú´re just thinking and before you know it you´ve haggled.
--The history of this city is quite something. I admit, I didn´t know a thing about Cusco before coming here. I probably couldn´t tell you it was a city in Peru before my trip. But the Incas were responsible for so much cultural significance in the area it truely is astounding. And when the Spanish came, everything changed. Cathedrals, laws, you name it. The combinationof the cultures has lead to a unique relationship with religion and the locals´relationship with the earth as a spiritual path. Very interesting stuff.
--I try to save money by eating with my host family, but the food here is so good and so cheap it´s hard to resist. I can get a 4 star gourmet burger with two beers for just over 15 bucks, or I can get a large pizza for 7. Everything is about a third of the price here as it would be at home.
--Oh, the buses. Possibly my favorite part of the city. Each ¨line¨or ¨route¨is determined by the name on the buses. There´s the Servicio Rapido line, the Lion of St. Germain, the El Dorado, and even the Batman. Each ¨bus¨is different, but most are large vans with about 20 people packed inside. How anyone gets out at any stop is beyon me. If you can get a seat you´re lucky.
--Just another cheap thing and because I´m a New York City guy. Cabs here are at most, which is only during the night, one dollar. No matter the distance. Amazing.
--Finally, the people on the street who come up to you asking if you want to buy something or go to their restaurant. For the first couple of times you walk through the main plaza it´s almost charming. You say no politely, or dare to see what they are offering. But after three weeks I just want to shove those people up against the wall. No, I don´t want to go to your pizzeria, did you not just see me walk out of the restaurant next door? No I wouldn´t like an öriginal painting¨that I´ve seen sold in three different towns.¨And NO I DO NOT WANT A MASSAGE! The massage ones are almost funny because these women only know how to say ¨Massage senor?¨Even turn your head and they pounce on you and speak away in Spanish. I´ve resorted to just ignoring these people, giving a stern no, and occasionally saying something quickly in English that just leaves them confunsed.
Ok, that´s all for now. Check back tomorrow for something new on Macchu Picchu!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Cusco, Peru
So I´ve made it to Peru after a quick stop in LA and about 22 hours of toal flying. It was nuts, but I have arrived in Cusco and have had one heck of a week.
I arrived a day late because I had to come all the way from New Zealand, so things were crazy off the bat. Oh, and they changed my host family the day before I arrived because my host mother had to go to the hospital in Lima. Crazy. But I was picked up by my new host father, Cesar, and taken to the house. It´s a nice little apartment only a short walk from the center of town. Inez, his wife, is a very nice lady who always seems to be busy. They are both retired teachers and have hosted many people on my program.
The school I am doing my program through is the Academia Latinoamericana de Espanol. They have a school here in Cusco, and two others--one in Bolivia and the other in Ecuador. They offer spanish classes at every level, and they work with local schools for volunteer projects. The schools are closer to daycares because they are for kids 3-5, but they are all kids of disadvantaged and poor families. So, after I arrived in Cusco I was told to take a nap because the altitude is a killer. It´s 11,000 ft above sea level here, easily the highest I´ve ever been. I´m easily out of breath walking up the street, and headaches were a problem this week.
This week I took classes at the school, and they get right into it. No english, at all. And considering I had studied spanish for 6 months over the past 6 years, things were a bit rough at first. I still understand and never lost the major aspects of the grammar, but lord I´ve forgotten so much vocabulary. I forgot snake (serpiente), moon (luna), and I´ve even spoken french a few times, an astounding fact considering my french vocab consists of about ten words. But I had a great teacher named Rebeca along with two other students. Sarah was younger than me and from Belgium while Francesca was in her 40s and from France. The academy has people of all ages from all over the world, hoping to improve their spanish and work with local kids at the same time.
It´s easily been the most emotionally tolling week of my entire trip. Even more so than when I first left home. In Australia you can feel lonely or homesick and still just get by and figure things out no problem by checking into a hotel if you need a break. I kinda felt the same way here but it´s s tough to communicate sometimes. Monday night was crazy and lying in bed I realized I hadn´t spoken a word of english all day. I don´t think that´s happened ever in my life. It was tough to say the least, but things have steadily improved throughout the week.
I´m now done with my spanish classes portion of the program, and today I visited the school that I´ll be volunteering at for the next two weeks. The kids have already stolen my heart and I want to adopt them all. They´re incredibly sweet and vivacious and just love meeting new people, playing soccer, and doing arts and crafts. There´s no way someone couldn´t like these kids.
But before I start my volunteering I´m heading to Macchu Picchu this weekend for four days. I´ve been looking forward to this part of my journey more than any other singular moment, and I cannot wait to get started. It´s currently pouring rain outside, so I hope that stops, but I am geting picked up at 3:45am in the morning to get started. Four days, about 6 hours of hiking a day, and hopefully the most incredible views of my life at the top.
I´ve probably left something out here, my apologies, but I need to get some sleep before a big day tomorrow. Anything I´ve forgotten I´ll include in the next post. Until then, adios.
I arrived a day late because I had to come all the way from New Zealand, so things were crazy off the bat. Oh, and they changed my host family the day before I arrived because my host mother had to go to the hospital in Lima. Crazy. But I was picked up by my new host father, Cesar, and taken to the house. It´s a nice little apartment only a short walk from the center of town. Inez, his wife, is a very nice lady who always seems to be busy. They are both retired teachers and have hosted many people on my program.
The school I am doing my program through is the Academia Latinoamericana de Espanol. They have a school here in Cusco, and two others--one in Bolivia and the other in Ecuador. They offer spanish classes at every level, and they work with local schools for volunteer projects. The schools are closer to daycares because they are for kids 3-5, but they are all kids of disadvantaged and poor families. So, after I arrived in Cusco I was told to take a nap because the altitude is a killer. It´s 11,000 ft above sea level here, easily the highest I´ve ever been. I´m easily out of breath walking up the street, and headaches were a problem this week.
This week I took classes at the school, and they get right into it. No english, at all. And considering I had studied spanish for 6 months over the past 6 years, things were a bit rough at first. I still understand and never lost the major aspects of the grammar, but lord I´ve forgotten so much vocabulary. I forgot snake (serpiente), moon (luna), and I´ve even spoken french a few times, an astounding fact considering my french vocab consists of about ten words. But I had a great teacher named Rebeca along with two other students. Sarah was younger than me and from Belgium while Francesca was in her 40s and from France. The academy has people of all ages from all over the world, hoping to improve their spanish and work with local kids at the same time.
It´s easily been the most emotionally tolling week of my entire trip. Even more so than when I first left home. In Australia you can feel lonely or homesick and still just get by and figure things out no problem by checking into a hotel if you need a break. I kinda felt the same way here but it´s s tough to communicate sometimes. Monday night was crazy and lying in bed I realized I hadn´t spoken a word of english all day. I don´t think that´s happened ever in my life. It was tough to say the least, but things have steadily improved throughout the week.
I´m now done with my spanish classes portion of the program, and today I visited the school that I´ll be volunteering at for the next two weeks. The kids have already stolen my heart and I want to adopt them all. They´re incredibly sweet and vivacious and just love meeting new people, playing soccer, and doing arts and crafts. There´s no way someone couldn´t like these kids.
But before I start my volunteering I´m heading to Macchu Picchu this weekend for four days. I´ve been looking forward to this part of my journey more than any other singular moment, and I cannot wait to get started. It´s currently pouring rain outside, so I hope that stops, but I am geting picked up at 3:45am in the morning to get started. Four days, about 6 hours of hiking a day, and hopefully the most incredible views of my life at the top.
I´ve probably left something out here, my apologies, but I need to get some sleep before a big day tomorrow. Anything I´ve forgotten I´ll include in the next post. Until then, adios.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
On the road again...
Today is my final day in New Zealand as I take off again tomorrow. It's been four fantastic months here, from chopping down weeds to driving around the south island with my mom to playing rugby and baby sitting three adorable children. But I'm ready to move on after six months in Australasia. It's been grand, but new adventures await.
Over the next two days I'll be in four different countries. Starting off in New Zealand, I fly to LA tomorrow for about 24 hours before I get on a plane again. I head down to El Salvador for about an hour before I finally end up in Lima, Peru. That's about as crazy a travel itinerary I've ever had.
But I am especially looking forward to my short stint in LA, getting to see a bunch of friends, and watching a Stanford football game that isn't on my computer screen in millions of pixels.
I will be arriving at my host family's place in Cusco, Peru some time late Sunday or early Monday. I'll be back in the eastern time zone so now weird calculations to make any more, and I'll post an update as soon as I've settled in and can find an internet cafe later next week. The first few days should be pretty simple--Spanish classes, orientation, etc--but I'll try and let everyone know I haven't caught malaria and died.
Oh, I'll also be posting pictures of all my adventures from Rotorua (several pictures of the adorable girls included) on facebook soon, so check those out.
Ok, I'm off. Adios!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Chippie sandwiches.
We've been meaning to have a picnics with the girls lately, and finally we decided to just have it inside instead of waiting for a perfect afternoon on ye weekend. Our "picnic" consisted of snack food mostly, including some chippies.
If you didn't know or remember, chippies are french fries. They're also chips or hot chips, but chippies for little kids I guess. But for this picnic Shanelle and Brendon insisted that I try a chippie sandwich. And yes, it's absurd as it sounds.
You begin with a simple piece of white bread. For extra artery clogging you can smother it in butter. Then simply place a few chippies on the bread. Add ketchup if that's your thing, and fold the bread over and you're done!
It tasted about as I expected. It's fries with ketchup, just with a some bread outside. It's good, just completely unnecessary. But the kids love it, and if you're ever in the mood to try something new and take a year or two off your life then I say go for it.
If you didn't know or remember, chippies are french fries. They're also chips or hot chips, but chippies for little kids I guess. But for this picnic Shanelle and Brendon insisted that I try a chippie sandwich. And yes, it's absurd as it sounds.
You begin with a simple piece of white bread. For extra artery clogging you can smother it in butter. Then simply place a few chippies on the bread. Add ketchup if that's your thing, and fold the bread over and you're done!
It tasted about as I expected. It's fries with ketchup, just with a some bread outside. It's good, just completely unnecessary. But the kids love it, and if you're ever in the mood to try something new and take a year or two off your life then I say go for it.
I went to a Hangi
A Hangi is a traditional Maori feast. It involves an entire day of preparation, and here in Rotorua they provide an entire cultural experience for those who come.
I went alone to the Hangi, and had those few awkward minutes sitting at my table with no one else and just staring around with no one to talk to. Eventually my table began to fill up, and next to/across from me were two older couples: one from Ireland and the other from Vancouver, Canada. They spoke to each other very openly about the U.S., about Obama, and more. They discussed how Americans are whiny, how our economy is messes up, and how Washington politics are so screwed over for the next several years. They went on about all of these things for a solid ten minutes, and only then did they turn to me to ask my name and where I was from. "Washington, D.C." I said. "Ohhhh" was the reply by each of them, followed by a long silence when they all looked extremely awkward/embarrassed and weren't sure what next to say.
I assured them that they were not totally in the wrong, but I did explain a few things to them about to current situation so they didn't think all Americans are crazy or our system a waste. The wife from Canada was particularly funny. She would not--and I mean would NOT--stop complaining about the noise a group of kids were making. Her husband obviously was embarrassed by her constant whining, and tried to point out that they are children about ten times. Later, after telling me about how she enjoyed this country and that country, I pointed out that they seemed to travel quite a lot. "Yeah, we're in a bit of debt." well maybe you shouldn't go to Turkey every year for three weeks only because "the people there are so nice." Just a thought.
Anyway, we were then brought to the attention of our guide for the evening. He asked where people were from (only American there, shocking) and explained the events of the evening and asked for a volunteer to help him out with everything.
First on the list of to-dos was to check on the hangi, out feast. A hangi works by digging a deep hole in the ground and heating it up with hot rocks and gathering steam and smoke. The gold is then placed in the hole and covered in cloth, and then the hole is covered. It cooks all day, and no spices are added. Pretty awesome how it works. So we checked on it, everything looked good, and so we moved on to a small creek to see some native Maori chants done while in a canoe on the water. Also pretty cool, fire was involved, and they wore indigenous clothing and artwork on their bodies/faces.
The final part of the cultural performance happened in an auditorium setting. There was singing, dancing, a female peace offering and presentation to all of us who were guests for the evening. Fascinating stuff to see the ancient practices of the Maori people and how they are still used today. They did their haka dance as well, equally as impressive as everything else shown that night.
An finally it was time to feast. Like I said before there is no seasoning on this food, but the chicken and lamb just falls off the bone. Rice, potatoes that melt in your mouth, and so much incredible food. I could have eaten ten plates, but while pacing myself dinner was over so while I was disappointed in trying to eat ten plates it was probably a blessing in disguise. I was full, and it was an incredible meal. Overall an incredible evening of culture, food, and interesting company.
I went alone to the Hangi, and had those few awkward minutes sitting at my table with no one else and just staring around with no one to talk to. Eventually my table began to fill up, and next to/across from me were two older couples: one from Ireland and the other from Vancouver, Canada. They spoke to each other very openly about the U.S., about Obama, and more. They discussed how Americans are whiny, how our economy is messes up, and how Washington politics are so screwed over for the next several years. They went on about all of these things for a solid ten minutes, and only then did they turn to me to ask my name and where I was from. "Washington, D.C." I said. "Ohhhh" was the reply by each of them, followed by a long silence when they all looked extremely awkward/embarrassed and weren't sure what next to say.
I assured them that they were not totally in the wrong, but I did explain a few things to them about to current situation so they didn't think all Americans are crazy or our system a waste. The wife from Canada was particularly funny. She would not--and I mean would NOT--stop complaining about the noise a group of kids were making. Her husband obviously was embarrassed by her constant whining, and tried to point out that they are children about ten times. Later, after telling me about how she enjoyed this country and that country, I pointed out that they seemed to travel quite a lot. "Yeah, we're in a bit of debt." well maybe you shouldn't go to Turkey every year for three weeks only because "the people there are so nice." Just a thought.
Anyway, we were then brought to the attention of our guide for the evening. He asked where people were from (only American there, shocking) and explained the events of the evening and asked for a volunteer to help him out with everything.
First on the list of to-dos was to check on the hangi, out feast. A hangi works by digging a deep hole in the ground and heating it up with hot rocks and gathering steam and smoke. The gold is then placed in the hole and covered in cloth, and then the hole is covered. It cooks all day, and no spices are added. Pretty awesome how it works. So we checked on it, everything looked good, and so we moved on to a small creek to see some native Maori chants done while in a canoe on the water. Also pretty cool, fire was involved, and they wore indigenous clothing and artwork on their bodies/faces.
The final part of the cultural performance happened in an auditorium setting. There was singing, dancing, a female peace offering and presentation to all of us who were guests for the evening. Fascinating stuff to see the ancient practices of the Maori people and how they are still used today. They did their haka dance as well, equally as impressive as everything else shown that night.
An finally it was time to feast. Like I said before there is no seasoning on this food, but the chicken and lamb just falls off the bone. Rice, potatoes that melt in your mouth, and so much incredible food. I could have eaten ten plates, but while pacing myself dinner was over so while I was disappointed in trying to eat ten plates it was probably a blessing in disguise. I was full, and it was an incredible meal. Overall an incredible evening of culture, food, and interesting company.
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