Cusco
All right - so I've finally found the time and energy to post to my journal. I'm not making any promises, but I'll do my best to update. Now with that said, let's get to the good stuff.
Our journey from the States to Cusco was a feat in and of itself. We had to take three planes and withstand a couple of lengthy layovers - it was pretty exhausting, and I was already pretty frazzled.
I'd confused our days of departure and, operating under the mistaken belief that we weren't leaving until Friday - when in fact we were leaving Wednesday - Chris and I stayed an extra day in Big Sur. It may not sound like a big deal, but I had procrastinated on several items of significance that absolutely had to be taken care of before we left. Suffice it to say that I was a mess. There was so much to do and so little time to do it - that kind of thing. I spent the next two days running around like a chicken with my head cut off, frantically trying to finish preparing for the trip and tie up loose ends.
And this isn't the first time that I've messed up about something key like a date or something. For whatever reason, I've become increasingly disorganized. This summer alone, I managed to confuse Chris' and my moving date and, as a result, we had to cancel a camping trip with a friend from school. Then a couple of weeks ago Chris and I were a no-show to dinner with my Mom because I'd confused the dates yet again. This particular incident may be attributed to a miscommunication, but who can tell?
It's not like this was the first time this has happened. I had similar incidents in law school - forgetting to turn in assignments and confusing due dates. And now that I'm not in school, there's absolutely no structure in my life - nothing to keep me tethered to the rest of the world - and the lack of structure is conducive to my forgetting things.
I've always considered myself to be a super organized person - the sort of person who doesn't mess up dates or lose things. I mean, you don't have to know me very well to know how anal-retentive I am; I'm the epitome of "control freak". But the psychiatrist who confirmed my ADD diagnosis and prescribed me Adderall - which I'm currently not taking, by the way - suggested that my OCD may in fact be symptomatic of my being a very disorganized person. Evidently disorganization is a common trait found in individuals with ADD and, supposedly, my compulsion to be super organized is merely a coping mechanism that I've developed over time.
Maybe I'll revert back to using a PDA, since the process of writing things down seemed to solidify the events in my memory. Or maybe I'll start taking my Adderall on a regular basis, instead of just when I'm studying. I'm reluctant to do that, though, because I have an aversion to popping pills for the rest of my life - doesn't everyone?
But I digress...
Nearly 24 hours later, we finally arrived in Cusco. The purpose of our visit here is to get acclimated to the high altitude, in preparation for a 4-day trek (26-mile hike) along the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. Hiking the Inca Trail and trekking through the Amazon were my primary motivations for coming to Peru. I'm terribly excited, but a little fearful because of the high altitude.
Immediately upon our arrival in Cusco, I noticed the effects of the high altitude. I was winded just putting on my bags - although, I am lugging around a 40-pound pack on my back, a 10-pound pack on my front, and a large purse weighing who-knows-what. So much for traveling light!
Anyway, the air is thin and my heart was racing. We hopped in a cab bound for our hostel, having paid twice what we should've. It was only a matter of a couple of dollars, and frankly we were too tired to care.
The ride to our hostel reminded me of other rides in other cabs in other developing countries I've visited - dangerously fast and greater attention paid to the horn than to the brakes. We sped along narrow, windy, cobblestone streets that rose and fell. I observed several people - many of them very old - slowly walking hunched over with a basket upon their backs. There was also an abundance of children playing in the street or wandering aimlessly with ice cream or candy in hand. And there were people sitting in doorways of shops, looking at everything and nothing at once.
On the ride to our hostel, I thought about how good I’ve got it. Traveling to so-called third-world countries never fails to impress upon me how fortunate we Americans are. We take so many things for granted, things that we probably couldn't stand to live without - things that we can't imagine anyone living without. Running water. *Hot* running water, for that matter. Indoor toilets. Toilets that flush toilet paper. Hell, toilets that consistently flush waste matter. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.
We were greeted by an armed guard when we arrived at our hostel, which came as somewhat of a shock to us. I seem to recall armed guards in Costa Rica, but I may be mistaken. Despite the uniform and the gun, the guard was extremely friendly. In fact, most Peruvians that I've encountered are pretty friendly - even those persistently peddling their goods, only to be rejected with a "No. Gracias!", smile in the face of that rejection.
The people operating the hostel are similarly amiable people. The person who received us gave us a tour of the hostel, which is situated above Cusco. We have a spectacular view of the city below from one of the common areas - it's quite breathtaking, despite the fact that foliage is severely lacking here. Cusco is pretty very much in the way that I think Greece is pretty - the abundance of old buildings, and not the barren landscape, is captivating.
I've seen little of the churches and museums, but I've wandered about the city every day except the day of our arrival - when we were nearly too exhausted to make the climb up the long series of stairs to our hostel. I think I enjoy navigating the windy streets and populated plazas more, anyway.
I would like to do something more, however. This is our fifth day in Cusco, and we've spent the bulk of our time here relaxing. The high altitude is especially tiring. Regardless of how much I sleep, I'm always worn out! Maybe I'm not getting sufficient rest, despite the amount of hours I'm sleeping. I've been having these intensely vivid, crazy dreams. I'm inundated with images of friends and family back home, and weird scenarios that I don't think even Freud could make sense of.
Despite the amount of time I've spent sleeping, I'm extremely restless and fast becoming bored with the sameness of the preceding days. We contemplated hunting for guinea pigs - which are a popular dish in Peru, and perhaps other parts of Central and South America - but it costs more than we're willing to pay. In all honesty, I'm not terribly disappointed. While I was somewhat intrigued by the idea, I'm not too keen on killing a guinea pig - I can hardly stomach killing a fish.
We also planned on doing some rafting, but we've been feeling a little under the weather. Perhaps it was the food, but who knows? It's hard to say what makes a person sick while traveling. I've already met three people in the hostel who were violently ill this past weekend alone!
We're being relatively careful with what we're eating and drinking, but one can only be so careful. I don't want to miss out on the culinary aspect of Peru altogether for the sake of ensuring I don't get sick, but I'd also like to be spared the misery of falling ill in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable place with unsatisfactory toilet facilities.
Speaking of nasty toilets and the like, during my first shower at the hostel I had the misfortune of dropping my soap behind the toilet. After much cursing and groaning with disgust, I finally picked it up, rinsed off the hairs that attached themselves to my precious bar of soap, and went about my shower. I have since been extremely cautious with my soap when washing, lest I have a similar mishap. *Shudders*
It's hard to be a clean freak when traveling, particularly when traveling to developing countries and / or using hostels as your primary means of accommodation. I've done it before, though, and I'll do it again - it's the price you pay for venturing beyond the safety of home.
My means of adapting consist of using napkins to insulate my toiletries from the sink and the toilet. In my mind, that thin layer of paper acts as a barrier between said toiletries and the grime that I fear so much. In addition, when I take a shower - which is either scalding hot or freezing cold, by the way - I only turn on the water when it's absolutely necessary (e.g., when I'm rinsing). This method combats flooding, sparing me the unpleasantness of standing in murky water.
Aside from the predictable unpleasant hostel conditions - which is par for the course, mind you - and being tired and occasionally bored, for the most part I'm enjoying myself. In addition to the simple pleasure I derive from perusing the city, I've especially enjoyed my trip alone to the market.
Chris and Jonathan didn't take too well to the market. I think the llama fetuses, abundance of questionable meat, and insect larva left them disgusted and a little culture-shocked. I didn't share their disgust, as I've experienced similar conditions in Costa Rican and Southeast Asian markets. Because Chris and Jonathan didn't want to go near the market again, I went by myself to purchase the produce needed for dinner. I had an incredible time! It was really fun to seek out and find the things I was looking for and interact with the vendors in a mixture of Spanish and sign language. I caught a glimpse of everyday life here, and it felt sort of rewarding to do even a menial task like buying groceries.
We begin our venture along the Inca Trail on Wednesday. I'm a little concerned about how we'll fare, given the altitude and requisite physical strain involved. Fortunately I'm finding that making the trek back up the hill to our hostel gets easier and easier and leaves me less and less breathless.
Anyway, that’s all the news that’s fit to print. I’ll be incommunicado between Wednesday and Saturday, but I’ll try to post thereafter. Ta!
Our journey from the States to Cusco was a feat in and of itself. We had to take three planes and withstand a couple of lengthy layovers - it was pretty exhausting, and I was already pretty frazzled.
I'd confused our days of departure and, operating under the mistaken belief that we weren't leaving until Friday - when in fact we were leaving Wednesday - Chris and I stayed an extra day in Big Sur. It may not sound like a big deal, but I had procrastinated on several items of significance that absolutely had to be taken care of before we left. Suffice it to say that I was a mess. There was so much to do and so little time to do it - that kind of thing. I spent the next two days running around like a chicken with my head cut off, frantically trying to finish preparing for the trip and tie up loose ends.
And this isn't the first time that I've messed up about something key like a date or something. For whatever reason, I've become increasingly disorganized. This summer alone, I managed to confuse Chris' and my moving date and, as a result, we had to cancel a camping trip with a friend from school. Then a couple of weeks ago Chris and I were a no-show to dinner with my Mom because I'd confused the dates yet again. This particular incident may be attributed to a miscommunication, but who can tell?
It's not like this was the first time this has happened. I had similar incidents in law school - forgetting to turn in assignments and confusing due dates. And now that I'm not in school, there's absolutely no structure in my life - nothing to keep me tethered to the rest of the world - and the lack of structure is conducive to my forgetting things.
I've always considered myself to be a super organized person - the sort of person who doesn't mess up dates or lose things. I mean, you don't have to know me very well to know how anal-retentive I am; I'm the epitome of "control freak". But the psychiatrist who confirmed my ADD diagnosis and prescribed me Adderall - which I'm currently not taking, by the way - suggested that my OCD may in fact be symptomatic of my being a very disorganized person. Evidently disorganization is a common trait found in individuals with ADD and, supposedly, my compulsion to be super organized is merely a coping mechanism that I've developed over time.
Maybe I'll revert back to using a PDA, since the process of writing things down seemed to solidify the events in my memory. Or maybe I'll start taking my Adderall on a regular basis, instead of just when I'm studying. I'm reluctant to do that, though, because I have an aversion to popping pills for the rest of my life - doesn't everyone?
But I digress...
Nearly 24 hours later, we finally arrived in Cusco. The purpose of our visit here is to get acclimated to the high altitude, in preparation for a 4-day trek (26-mile hike) along the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. Hiking the Inca Trail and trekking through the Amazon were my primary motivations for coming to Peru. I'm terribly excited, but a little fearful because of the high altitude.
Immediately upon our arrival in Cusco, I noticed the effects of the high altitude. I was winded just putting on my bags - although, I am lugging around a 40-pound pack on my back, a 10-pound pack on my front, and a large purse weighing who-knows-what. So much for traveling light!
Anyway, the air is thin and my heart was racing. We hopped in a cab bound for our hostel, having paid twice what we should've. It was only a matter of a couple of dollars, and frankly we were too tired to care.
The ride to our hostel reminded me of other rides in other cabs in other developing countries I've visited - dangerously fast and greater attention paid to the horn than to the brakes. We sped along narrow, windy, cobblestone streets that rose and fell. I observed several people - many of them very old - slowly walking hunched over with a basket upon their backs. There was also an abundance of children playing in the street or wandering aimlessly with ice cream or candy in hand. And there were people sitting in doorways of shops, looking at everything and nothing at once.
On the ride to our hostel, I thought about how good I’ve got it. Traveling to so-called third-world countries never fails to impress upon me how fortunate we Americans are. We take so many things for granted, things that we probably couldn't stand to live without - things that we can't imagine anyone living without. Running water. *Hot* running water, for that matter. Indoor toilets. Toilets that flush toilet paper. Hell, toilets that consistently flush waste matter. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.
We were greeted by an armed guard when we arrived at our hostel, which came as somewhat of a shock to us. I seem to recall armed guards in Costa Rica, but I may be mistaken. Despite the uniform and the gun, the guard was extremely friendly. In fact, most Peruvians that I've encountered are pretty friendly - even those persistently peddling their goods, only to be rejected with a "No. Gracias!", smile in the face of that rejection.
The people operating the hostel are similarly amiable people. The person who received us gave us a tour of the hostel, which is situated above Cusco. We have a spectacular view of the city below from one of the common areas - it's quite breathtaking, despite the fact that foliage is severely lacking here. Cusco is pretty very much in the way that I think Greece is pretty - the abundance of old buildings, and not the barren landscape, is captivating.
I've seen little of the churches and museums, but I've wandered about the city every day except the day of our arrival - when we were nearly too exhausted to make the climb up the long series of stairs to our hostel. I think I enjoy navigating the windy streets and populated plazas more, anyway.
I would like to do something more, however. This is our fifth day in Cusco, and we've spent the bulk of our time here relaxing. The high altitude is especially tiring. Regardless of how much I sleep, I'm always worn out! Maybe I'm not getting sufficient rest, despite the amount of hours I'm sleeping. I've been having these intensely vivid, crazy dreams. I'm inundated with images of friends and family back home, and weird scenarios that I don't think even Freud could make sense of.
Despite the amount of time I've spent sleeping, I'm extremely restless and fast becoming bored with the sameness of the preceding days. We contemplated hunting for guinea pigs - which are a popular dish in Peru, and perhaps other parts of Central and South America - but it costs more than we're willing to pay. In all honesty, I'm not terribly disappointed. While I was somewhat intrigued by the idea, I'm not too keen on killing a guinea pig - I can hardly stomach killing a fish.
We also planned on doing some rafting, but we've been feeling a little under the weather. Perhaps it was the food, but who knows? It's hard to say what makes a person sick while traveling. I've already met three people in the hostel who were violently ill this past weekend alone!
We're being relatively careful with what we're eating and drinking, but one can only be so careful. I don't want to miss out on the culinary aspect of Peru altogether for the sake of ensuring I don't get sick, but I'd also like to be spared the misery of falling ill in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable place with unsatisfactory toilet facilities.
Speaking of nasty toilets and the like, during my first shower at the hostel I had the misfortune of dropping my soap behind the toilet. After much cursing and groaning with disgust, I finally picked it up, rinsed off the hairs that attached themselves to my precious bar of soap, and went about my shower. I have since been extremely cautious with my soap when washing, lest I have a similar mishap. *Shudders*
It's hard to be a clean freak when traveling, particularly when traveling to developing countries and / or using hostels as your primary means of accommodation. I've done it before, though, and I'll do it again - it's the price you pay for venturing beyond the safety of home.
My means of adapting consist of using napkins to insulate my toiletries from the sink and the toilet. In my mind, that thin layer of paper acts as a barrier between said toiletries and the grime that I fear so much. In addition, when I take a shower - which is either scalding hot or freezing cold, by the way - I only turn on the water when it's absolutely necessary (e.g., when I'm rinsing). This method combats flooding, sparing me the unpleasantness of standing in murky water.
Aside from the predictable unpleasant hostel conditions - which is par for the course, mind you - and being tired and occasionally bored, for the most part I'm enjoying myself. In addition to the simple pleasure I derive from perusing the city, I've especially enjoyed my trip alone to the market.
Chris and Jonathan didn't take too well to the market. I think the llama fetuses, abundance of questionable meat, and insect larva left them disgusted and a little culture-shocked. I didn't share their disgust, as I've experienced similar conditions in Costa Rican and Southeast Asian markets. Because Chris and Jonathan didn't want to go near the market again, I went by myself to purchase the produce needed for dinner. I had an incredible time! It was really fun to seek out and find the things I was looking for and interact with the vendors in a mixture of Spanish and sign language. I caught a glimpse of everyday life here, and it felt sort of rewarding to do even a menial task like buying groceries.
We begin our venture along the Inca Trail on Wednesday. I'm a little concerned about how we'll fare, given the altitude and requisite physical strain involved. Fortunately I'm finding that making the trek back up the hill to our hostel gets easier and easier and leaves me less and less breathless.
Anyway, that’s all the news that’s fit to print. I’ll be incommunicado between Wednesday and Saturday, but I’ll try to post thereafter. Ta!