Tuesday, November 14, 2006

14 November 2006 12:00 PM

When it rains, it pours.

In my sickly state, I find myself indulging in long blog updates. If you’ve made it through my account of Peru and moved onto this, I’m impressed.

Today is Tuesday. Jon will be here the day after tomorrow, which is crazy to think about. And my time in Otavalo and at Muenala comes to an end next Wednesday. I have such a mix of emotions about this experience ending. On the one hand I’m counting down the minutes to my departure. I can’t wait to go home to food I love, a hot shower, expressing myself intelligently in a language in which I am comfortable, friends I’ve had for more than six weeks, and the list goes on. I’m also feeling really worn out by my teaching experience at Muenala, so I do feel somewhat glad to be almost finished with that too.

However, despite looking forward to going home, I am really sad about having to leave. First of all, I really love being in Ecuador. I think the people are wonderful, it’s a beautiful and diverse country, and it’s offered me a lot of perspective that I fear I may lose back in the US. Also, I’ve become really close to my host family, especially Rosario. She’s both mother and friend to me here, and it’s hard to imagine that in a week’s time I’ll have to say goodbye to her. I credit my host family for helping me get through a lot of the hard times here. They’ve welcomed me into their family and really took care of me.

And I have mixed feelings about the work I’ve done at Muenala. As I come to the end of my time at the school, I’ve been evaluating my success with my students. I do think they’re better off for having me as their teacher inasmuch as having another person to help teach 37 students is a good thing. But I don’t know if I really affected any long-term change, or that my teaching created some big improvement in the way they think. After all my effort in trying to teach them, my kids still don’t understand place value and therefore have trouble with subtraction, they still don’t understand how multiplication is a function of addition, and division a function of multiplication. Their reading comprehension doesn’t seem to be much better, nor their grammar. In four months I can’t really see that I did too much, and that’s difficult for me to accept. However, I have to remind myself that I’ve been teaching students who are used to learning through copying and memorization. I believe it would be impossible for even the best and most experienced teacher to change the way these students learn in only 4 months.

And I can’t help but feel that the expectations of the project itself are very low, and therefore incongruous with what I set out to accomplish by coming to Ecuador. Many volunteers are happy to play games with the kids, and maybe do a little bit of teaching, whereas I wasn’t here to play, I wanted to have a genuine teaching experience. But the students have been conditioned to see the volunteers as their playmates (and wallets), not their teachers, and as a result I ran into a lot more resistance with my class.

But even with all the difficulty, I still feel really close to my students, and I will miss them so much. I know that I won’t be able to simply walk away from the community in Muenala. My hope is to find a way to continue to support the education there so as to contribute to the future success of the people. But believe me, you’ll be hearing more about that soon enough.

As for now, I’m looking forward to enjoying my last week in Otavalo and the school, and more than anything, I can’t wait to see Jon on Thursday.

NY Times Article on the Salkantay Trek

A friend forwarded this to me and it gives a good description of the trek Shadi and I did. Although I have to metion that the author took an easier path than we did.

http://travel2.nytimes.com/2006/11/12/travel/12machu.html?ex=1163998800&en=4f2d90e044517302&ei=5070

And Here's the Last of 'Em



More Machu Picchu Pics





Machu Picchu Pics





And Finally...



And More Trek Pics





Even More Trek Pics





More Trek Pics





Trek Pics




November 14, 2006 7:30 AM






Planes, Trains and Automobiles Take 2: My Peruvian Adventures

Once again I’m home from school after catching my umpteenth cold/flu from the nasty germs the kids insist on spreading to me. I very rarely get sick at home, so you can imagine my frustration that I get the gripe every other week here. But oh well, it affords me a chance to catch everyone up on my trip to Peru.

For those of you who think I’m a little too long-winded in this forum, I’ll give the quick breakdown first to spare you the read. To sum up I have to say it was an amazing trip for a ton of reasons. Getting there and away was an adventure in itself, the 5-day trek, Machu Picchu, everything made for an experience I could never forget.

But first…

The Top 10 Lessons I Learned From My Trip to Peru:

10. Spending 30 on a bus, no matter how luxurious, is not comfortable

9. Don’t underestimate how gross you can become after not bathing for five days

8. Most tourists are demanding, unappreciative, obnoxious and loud. It’s better to be someone who breaks the stereotype.

7. Border crossings are intimidating, even when you have nothing to hide

6. Trusting the kindness of strangers, especially seasoned taxi drivers, can result in unexpected surprises

5. A “toilet tent” is no substitute for proper plumbing

4. Make sure your trekking guide tells you about accidents and deaths AFTER you finish your trek

3. In South America a cable car used to cross a river is nothing more than a wooden box suspended from an old rope in which you’re trusting your life

2. When you put your mind to something, you can accomplish almost anything

And the #1 lesson I learned: Make sure you spray bug spray on your ass – squatting without it makes for some really embarrassing scratching moments later.

So I left Otavalo on Wednesday October 25th to begin the long journey to Cusco, Peru. At that time I really had no idea how I was actually getting there. I knew Shadi and I had to be in Lima by Saturday at noon to catch our flight to Cusco, but other than that, I had only a vague idea of how we might actually accomplish the getting to Lima part. To give you some perspective on how absolutely out of character that is for me, I offer you my habit of printing out detailed itineraries for EVERY trip I take at home. I have a template for these in which I input every mode of transportation, every departure/arrival time, confirmation numbers, emergency contact information, etc. I can’t remember a time that I have traveled in the last 6 years that I haven’t had this paperwork with me. And here I was about to travel to another country without any clue as to how I would get there.

Thankfully, Shadi had done some work in Quito that day to get these little details worked out. After discovering that there was a paro (road block used for protests) at the border crossing we intended to use, Shadi managed to find a long-distance bus that was being re-routed to the other border crossing – a 30-hour luxury bus from Guayaquil to Lima. But we were in Quito, not Guayaquil, minor problem. So, Thursday morning we hopped a flight at the crack of dawn from Quito to Guayaquil in order to ensure that we caught our 11:00 AM bus.

Thirty hours on a bus is a really long time – a REALLY REALLY long time. And no matter how much one prepares for such a journey, there isn’t much that can be done to make it go by faster. Reading was essentially out of the question on the bus wound through mountains and along coastal roads; bad US movies dubbed in Spanish can only capture one’s attention for so long (but longer than you’d think); sleeping is the best option to make the time pass, but there’s only so much sleep one can get when the military, drug police, or other “official” force does a passport check or search every few hours. Shadi and I really felt like we would never get to Lima – that we would have to spend the rest of our lives on that bus (a bus that got increasingly smelly as the time passed).

But we rolled into Lima around 5:00 PM on Friday. We climbed into a taxi that looked like it wouldn’t make it around the corner and gave the name of a decent hotel in the center of town. Our driver insisted that we could do better than that and instead drove us to one of the best hotels in Lima. Shadi and I did want to splurge a bit after so much time on the bus (and without a shower), but we really didn’t want to go overboard. Our driver assured us he would take care of everything. When we showed up at the hotel he accompanied me to the reception desk where he was able to negotiate a substantial discount. The place was really beautiful, had a good restaurant – where we enjoyed Pisco Sours, Peru’s signature drink – and Shadi and I had a good laugh about the presence of a bidet in our bathroom.

We had no time to explore Lima, as Erwin, our driver, came back for us at 10:00 the next morning to bring us to the airport. From what I did see, Lima is HUGE, and a little intimidating for me after living a rural life for the past 3+ months. But I would like to go back to explore it a bit more, especially when my city girl nature has returned.

The flight from Lima to Cusco was uneventful, although I cannot get used to flying into a city surrounded by mountains. It’s super scary to fly so close to the top of the mountains then essentially dive down to the runway. We were collected in the airport by someone from our hotel (no hostel for us, we would be roughing it for five days, so for two nights, we were going to be comfortable) and brought into Cusco. It’s such a beautiful city, and I wish I’d had more time to see it. But Shadi and I only had one full day in the area, so we decided to take a tour of the Sacred Valley rather than explore the city.

Ok, I have to bitch for a moment. I really hate tourists. I know that I was one too, but that doesn’t change the fact that I really hate other tourists. And I can’t stand being on a tourist bus that stops here and there for 15-20 minutes to give one enough time to snap a few pictures, maybe buy something from a small market and then hop back on the bus for the next site. With only one day to see the Sacred Valley, Shadi and I had no choice, but I felt kind of disgusted by the lack of connection the tourists could make to the places they were visiting. After living in South America for almost four months I feel really connected to and protective of the various cultures. So when I see tourists shoving their cameras in the faces of the local indigenous without asking first, I seethe.

We got back from our day trip in time for a meeting about our trek beginning the next day, at which time we learned we would be picked up from our hotel at 4:00 AM. Yeah, we weren’t too thrilled at that one, but what can you do. We also discovered that no one else had signed up for the trek, so it would be Shadi and me, our guide, a cook, and someone to look after the three horses that carried all the food/equipment, etc. No one else. We thought it was hysterical that it would be just the two of us.

After alpaca steaks for dinner (add that to my list of weird food), we headed back to the hotel with every intention of going to sleep early, but of course we didn’t. So getting up at 3:30 the next morning truly sucked. We were grateful for the five-hour van ride to the trailhead so we could catch up on some sleep.

It was a bit surreal starting off. We were at the beginning of the 70km trek feeling both excited and a bit anxious. As we started off and began huffing and puffing immediately, Shadi and I both thought “What have we gotten ourselves into?!” – Especially as the trail got steeper and steeper, and the nice clear day turned to chilling rain. Coming upon the simple kitchen tent that had been erected for lunch was like finding the Holy Grail. I was freezing and wet, and Lauriano, our cook, had tea ready for me. I think it was the best cup of tea I’d ever had. After a lovely lunch of chicken and rice (we certainly weren’t roughing it when it came to food), we reluctantly set out for the remaining three hours of hiking.

However, we were the only ones who chose to do so. There was a group of Israelis who began their trek around the same time we did that morning. They were all younger than Shadi and me, and they were traveling after finishing their required time in the Israeli army. After the break at lunch they decided to turn back rather than continue on the trek. We ran into them later at Machu Picchu and they explained that after they saw the conditions of the trek they decided not to continue. Shadi and I felt super bad-ass after learning about their decision as we weren’t even tempted to quit, while this younger, more fit group couldn’t take it.

Thanks to coca leaves (used for altitude sickness) and the euphoria that can come from lack of oxygen, getting to the highest point of the day (and of the trek) at nearly 5000 meters I felt amazing. There was a shrine of sorts at the pass where trekkers could place stones and offer thanks to Pacha Mama (Mother Earth). We did so with a shared bottle of rum to warm ourselves.

The rest of Day 1 was downhill, but it seemed to take forever as the altitude decreased and the coca tea wore off. Stumbling into camp to find my tent already erected, tea brewing, and fresh, dry clothes to change into was amazing. And the setting of our campsite was so beautiful. We were situated in a valley with snow-covered Salkantay Mountain on one side, and other mountains along the other, near a river that provided the soothing sound of rushing water. However, I was almost too exhausted to enjoy it. Shadi and I struggled to stay awake through dinner, and hit our sleeping bags by 8:00.

Day 2 was mostly downhill, with changing scenery from wide open mountains to rocky green fields and then to lush cloud forest. As it is rainy season, we got dumped on again, but that wasn’t too bad as it wasn’t as cold as the first day. Shadi and I were so thankful that we were talked into buying huge plastic ponchos the night before we left, they really saved us. We were still wet, but not soaked. The day was slow-going as Shadi had a lot of trouble with her knee, but we eventually made it to camp – this time in a very small village in the cloud forest.

As it was Halloween that night, I shared chocolate with Jaime (our guide), Lauriano and the horse master (whose name I can’t remember). Then Jaime told a few local ghost stories which made us properly freaked out when we went to bed. As Shadi and I were getting ready to go to sleep I heard her say, “What the hell is that?” At first I didn’t see anything, but then I noticed the glowing light outside our tent. I was certain that Jaime was trying to screw with us so I opened up the tent door, but no one was there. This went on for a few minutes before I found the culprit. Sitting comfortably on our tent was a lightning bug. I picked it up and showed it to Shadi, who had never heard of lighting bugs or fireflies. Nor could she seem to remember the name, so every time the story has been told since, lighting bugs were referred to as glowing flies.

Day 3 brought us further into the cloud forest, which meant more greenery, more butterflies, orchids and other flowers, small waterfalls and rivulets, but amazingly enough a day free of rain. Because Shadi’s knee had gotten worse she had no choice but to take our emergency horse. For anyone other than Shadi this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but I don’t know anyone who is more afraid of animals than Shadi. We had been joking for weeks about the emergency horse, and she said she’d rather walk on a broken leg than ride a horse. Well, she had to eat those words. But the funniest part was that the person in charge of leading the horse was a 10-year old boy. Not only did Shadi have to face one of her biggest fears, but she had to put all her trust in a kid to get her through it. At one point I cheerfully asked her how she was doing, to which she replied, “I’m fucking petrified!” It became the quote of the trip.

Day 4 was the easiest day, as most of our walking was on a dirt road, and along railroad tracks rather than along rocky, muddy trails. By this time the three of us (Jaime, Shadi and me) had our rhythm worked out. I generally power walked ahead of everyone, and then I would stop and wait every hour for Shadi and Jaime to catch up. I generally walk a lot faster than Shadi, but with her knee hurting she was even slower than usual. But it worked out fine for us – we each had a lot of alone time to walk and think and enjoy the trek our own way.

As we had to be up at 4:30 to ascend to Machu Picchu on Day 5 we said our farewells to Lauriano the night before. We quickly packed up in the morning and headed up to our final destination. What I wasn’t prepared for is that the hike up to Machu Picchu would be the most difficult stretch of the whole 5 days. I think I climbed the equivalent number of steps as are in the Sears Tower – or at least it felt that way. But it was so beautiful. The clouds hung around the mountains giving everything a mystical quality.

We reached Machu Picchu at around 7:00 – before all the day-tripping tourists arrived. Although it looked like the whole site would be clouded over that day, we were lucky enough to have some clear weather to get some beautiful views. Jaime gave us a long tour of the ruins, explaining the significance of this and that. I was really overwhelmed by the enormity of it and the amount of work that must have gone into its construction. And the setting couldn’t have been more beautiful. Machu Picchu sits on top of a mountain at about 2800 meters, which puts it in the cloud forest. It’s surrounded by other mountains and the vistas are unbelievable.

At around 10:30 the clouds returned along with torrential rains. Although I had every intention of climbing around longer, there was little point in the fog and rain. And besides, by that time the tourist train from Cusco had arrived, and things were getting really crowded. I’m convinced that experiencing Machu Picchu isn’t nearly as good if you just show up for the day. Hiking in makes it so much better. So Shadi and I grabbed a coffee and hung out talking to other travelers for a while before heading down by bus to the town of Aguas Calientes to grab some lunch and meet up with Jaime.

After walking around Aguas Calientes in the rain (detecting a pattern?), having a leisurely lunch, and saying our goodbyes to Jaime, Shadi and I collected our gear and hopped the train back to Cusco, feeling exceedingly accomplished and thinking our journey had come to an end. But of course we still had a plane ride to Lima, a bus ride to Guayaquil and another bus to Quito to look forward to, so we were hardly finished.

I left Cusco feeling like I really had to return to see more in this great city. We were met in Lima by Erwin who took us back to the bus terminal where he first encountered us. Unfortunately, this terminal is in a really crappy part of town, near absolutely nothing, so Shadi and I had to sit and wait for five hours for our bus. But thankfully, the paro at the border crossing had cleared by then so the trip from Lima to Guayaquil was only 27 hours rather than 30 – lucky us. It would have been faster, but things were so slow going with immigration on both sides. Shadi always has at least a little trouble at border crossing as she was born in Tehran, Iran, so naturally everyone suspects she’s a terrorist. We’ve had a good laugh about the irony of an American and an Iranian traveling through South America together – if I wasn’t on The List before, I certainly am now.

We rolled into Guayaquil at around 6:30 at night on Sunday and then immediately hopped a bus to Quito. In order to sleep through the 8-hour ride Shadi and I dosed up on Benedryl and motion sickness medication, so when the bus was stopped for a search at midnight, we were totally zonked out. As a result we weren’t as careful about our stuff, and we think that Shadi’s camera (with all her pics from the trip) was stolen during the search. But we can’t know for sure as we didn’t realize it was missing until the next day.

At 4:00 AM Monday morning we finally reached Quito. Rather than continue up to Otavalo from there, we went to the hostel we use in Quito for a little more sleep before embarking on the last 2 hours of our journey. I got home that afternoon at around 2:00, after leaving Cusco at 7:30 AM on Saturday: plane, taxi, bus, bus, taxi, bus, and two nights sleeping on a moving vehicle. It was exhausting, but such a great adventure. And bright and early Tuesday morning I was back at Muenala for school.