blisters not yet healed, here I go again

Another impromptu trek, this time with my dear English lads, Nick and Conrad. I don´t know how they talked me into it, with feet still aching at 8 o-clock at night, to head out again...
Leymebamba is not like the big towns such as Cuzco with tourist agencies, so we found ourselves chatting up people on the street corners and ducking into copy/fax places to find a guide. We found someone who brought us to someone else´s home, and there we planned our trek for the following morning. Then together we all set out to buy supplies in the various little stores...coca leaves to chew on while ascending in altitude and also just for hanging out, instant coffee (it´s all they drink here), cheese at the dairy place, fruits and veggies at another, batteries, tobacco for the boys´ pipe, socks, and machetes, and water.

We set out bright and early the next morning, walking up the hill out of town until we picked up our guide Jabier at his ranch. Then began the most beautiful and painful trek I have ever done. Farther into ¨the center of the earth¨(as discussed before), we plunged, trekking for 9 hours until we found ourselves deep into the jungle ¨cloud forest¨ that surrounds Leymebamba. Impossibly green mountains, hundreds of types of orchids and medicinal plants, and mud up to your knees unexpectantly. The path--a good deal of it ancient Incan stone trail--was rough: steep inclines and declines over and over again, rocky, muddy, with big holes, and lots of things to leap over. Even with my feet wrapped up in medical tape and 2 pairs of socks, my feet were hurtin´ from the treacherous journey in rubber boots. But again the sceneray was absolutely incredible. The most memorable part was passing through a yellow valley made up of thick patches of long grass that had huge unexplainable holes (also filled with the yellow grass) and large rocks plucked down everwhere...and the creepiest part about it was that it was totally silent except for the wind and an occassional bird. Very strange...very Star Wars.
And I´m sorry to make yet another movie reference, but as we entered the jungle, I was reminded of Princess Bride, complete with ROUSes (rodents of unusual size). We literally were walking through a swamp and had to be careful where we stepped, lest we sink in and loose a boot!
The second day, we hiked through the jungle some more to Lake Quindacocha, which is actually a preserve, but we got permission (because Nick bought some land in Leymebamba and is technically a towns-person). Both this lake and the Lake of the Condors are perfectly pristine--black they are so deep, yet totally clear, and surrounded by virgin forest, cliff faces filled with mummies (I´m serious), and ancient Chachapoyan town ruins, now overgrown with plants and trees. We hiked around, checked out the ruins, gazed at the lakes, viewed the cliff tombs from afar...and then actually visited them...and I shit you not...I saw some real mummies...in a cave, preserved for hundreds of years in their original location (They are from the Chachapoyas, with some apparent Incan influence, from 800-1400 AD). Most of them were wrapped bundles with faces or designs painted on them, but I also spied a hand and a skull with remarkably intact teeth, as well as all sorts of little scraps of archeological evidence--pottery, fabric, etc. The site is absolutely not open to tourists. It´s being preserved until archeologists can have a look, but we visited the site with the guard who has to come every 8 days and make sure all is well there. Oh my god.
The rest of this particular afternoon, which could not be topped after seeing real mummies (and after our meal containing 3 different types of potatoes), was spent chewing on coca leaves and limestone and chatting it up with the guide and the guard.




The following day we returned down the same grueling path. The next day my feet hurt so badly, I could barely walk. I hung out until 3, when I caught the combi (mini collective van, which I might add had 20 people in it!) to Chachapoyas City. Per usual in Peru, the 2.5 hour ride somehow took 3.5 hours...all in a days work for drivers avoiding police because they don´t have their papers and getting stopped for construction.

The following day I wandered around Chachapoyas City, which is apparently comparable to Cuzco 40 years ago, and then at night I visited Kuelap. Kuelaps is an enormous stone fortress of the Chachapoyan people, and there is evidence that both the Incans and the Spanards visited to do business there. Again thwarted by road work (this time turning the 2 hour ride into nearly 6), we ended up at Kuelap just before closing, but they let us wander around regardless, which ended up being great because we were literally the only tourists and we able to see the ancient citadel by starlight. Kuelap is supposed to the sort of Machu Picchu of the north (in archeological significance), and indeed it´s quite impressive. The reason people don´t visit it as much is because it hasn´t received the media attention and it´s pretty hard to get to (no flights, just a series of long and bumpy bus rides).

The next day (Sunday), I boarded a 23 hour bus ride to Lima. I´ll let that sentence stand on it´s on.
And so here I am in Lima, staying with my friend Oscar. I plan to start my voyage south today or tomorrow....

I have uploaded a bunch more pictures, though I don´t have pictures of the Lake of the Condors trek yet. Check them out (and again email me if you have trouble viewing them):
http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=238727511/a=43035390_43035390/t_=43035390
(if you saw the pictures before, you´ll probably have to go 1/2 way - 3/4s of the way through).

Much love,
Rachel

if it´s been awhile...read back a bit

Ooops, I meant to go to Chachapoyas tomorrow, but I got talked into doing another trek! So I leave tomorrow morning for a 3 day trek to La Laguna de Los Condores, and another lake, called Quindacocha, which is actually closed to tourists, but we somehow acquired a permit to go! And only because the head of the city granted us permission to go with a very specific guide, and only in a restricted area because the area is being preserved. I couldn´t pass it up....so who knows what´s next after that? I apparently can´t even plan hours ahead of time. And the people I have met have been fabulous...I am out of money and there are no ATMs here, so not one but 3 people have loaned me various possesions (rubber boots, sleeping bag, etc) and $$. I am so blessed.
Out of connection for now...back Friday...
xoxoxoxo

voyage to the center of the world

I have just returned from the center of the world. That´s the only way I can explain it.
6 days ago I think it was, at 10-o-clock at night, I found myself agreeing to a 4 day trek the following morning to check out some Chachapoyan ruins, Incan baths, and who knew what else, with a guy from Lima and a local guide. If you haven´t seen the movie, Journey to the Center of the World, it´s probably for the better--I saw it in Spanish with my Cajamarcan ¨enamorado¨ and even in a foreign language, I could tell it was a pretty terrible movie. Regardless, the center of the world in this movie looks remarkably like the remote areas around Leymebama, aka the cloudforest of northern Peru. The landscape is thick with green and lush with bromiliads and other brightly colored flowers. There are rocks plunked down and jutting out of everywhere--of all kinds, grey, black, white, volcanic, fossil-filled, smooth from water and pockmarked from erosion. Cliff faces--some displaying Chachapoyan pictographs from 600-1200 years ago and filled with little tombs which house or housed mummies, still preserved today. Potato farms, horses and cows wandering, medicinal plants everwhere you looks, waterfalls, and the occasional Chachapoyan town ruins, which consist of stone walls and crumbling circular stone homes... It´s all fantastically odd and beautiful.
We hardly saw any people, and no tourists. When we came upon someone herding their cattle or horses or walking to the next ¨town¨ for a supply, we´d stop and chat for awhile: ¨Where are you going? Where are you coming from? How are the roads?¨ and maybe share a little ¨aguardiente,¨ aka moonshine made from cane sugar.
We hiked up and around, through and down valleys and green mountains reminiscent of The Sound of Music (my apologies for my 2nd movie reference). 7 and 8 hour days of hiking in knee high rubber boots (it´s what everyone wears here), followed by 7 hour days of horseback riding--plunging down slippery muddy hills, stumbling up rocky inclines, and jumping creeks. Often our guide, Sinesio, was hacking our path for us with his trusty machete, as the tall pokey grass in some regions went up to my chest. Our walking sticks (also cut with his machete), came in handy when walking though the dense vegetation, feeling out holes and swampy parts in the earth. At some points our elevation got up to 1150 ft, which is pretty high for me, especially since we were ascending and descending over and over again and I was basically running to keep up with the 2 Peruvian guys. I´m not in great shape either after traveling for weeks--sitting in buses, cars, airplanes, spending hours sitting and chatting and oh my eating...milk and meat and carbs galore. And I´m not sure what was worse, the blisters and the saddle sore or the freezing nights. Regardless, I made it! And a hot meal never tasted so good!
I only intended to pass through Leymamba, but today marks one week that I´ve been in the area...still yet to reach the town of Chachapoyas. My plan though, is to hop a combi (little bus) at 5am tomorrow, and hopefully get some laundry done in the ¨big city¨and see Kuelap (the largest structure found of the Chachapoyan culture...though I should add, they just keep finding things!). Then on to Tarapoto, which is farther east and into the jungle, and then to Cuzco...we´ll see what happens though!
I really want to upload pictures because this place is simply indescribable (though of course even pictures can´t do it justice), but this computer is too slow to do such things...hopefully I can do that in Chachapoyas.

Other notes:

• I washed my face in a stone bath constructed by Incans hundreds of years ago, still preserved in the microscopic town of Atuen (where no roads reach and they communicate through radio).
• I learned to trust that the horse doesn´t want to die either, so when you´re balancing on the side of a narrow rocky path in the rain, just trust their instincts and close your eyes.
• Things I really miss: salsa dancing, yoga classes, good black coffee, indian food, my bicycle, hot showers, quality beds, a routine (seriously), and of course my friends and family!!!
• Also, one particularly frigid evening, I found myself rescued from a foul mood by Umberto´s ipod with familiar music like Bob Marley and Coldplay...I almost cried I was so nostalgic and relieved by it... And a note to anyone who thinks this adventure is a breeze for me and that I am ¨so strong¨ (in reference to some emails).....um it´s not, I´m not...anyone can throw themselves into a crazy situation! It is hard for me sometimes, and I have struggled, but ultimately I´m happy for the challenge I´ve given myself, and I am so grateful for the assortment of uncomfortable feelings this journey has conjoured up, as well as all the beauty.

So much love....from just left of the center of the world (in town now),
Rachel

oh my leymebamba

Just a note to say
The people outside the cities are absolutely fabulous and cheerful and friendly and helpful...may I never return to another city here... (except to do some laundry and use some fast internet and maybe go salsa dancing...)
There´s nothing like ripping open an avocado with your bare hands and devouring it, scraping out the meat with your teeth.
This temperate rainforest and teeny town I´ve found myself in have completely enchanted me...yesterday, I went for a hike with 2 English lads I met, and we swam under a frigid waterfall.
oh me oh my, I am simply giddy here...it could be the yoga we´ve been doing overlooking the fabulously lush surroundings :) :) :)

safe and sound Leymebamba

Just a quick note to say, I made it out of Celendin to Leymebaba, which is on the way to Chachapoyas, and was my original desired destination. And it is absolutely spectacular here...perhaps the most magical place I have ever seen. I made it here via a camion, which is a cargo truck, which carried 3 cows, a bunch of chicken crates, and 13 people. The truck is un-covered, so you sit on a wooden board atop the cargo and look out at the incredible scenery...spitting coca leaves off the side (the leaves of the plant that cocaine comes from--it´s good for the altitude transition). The 10 hour journey was bumpy and dusty and fabulous. More later...
And PS the cock fight was another interesting experience involving a bunch of men smoking cigarettes, passing glasses of beer, and yelling like mad at a couple roosters. The few women in attendance sat knitting and hawking plastic cups of jello and rice pudding.
much love, Rachel

Bumble, Peru (aka Celendin)

¨Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.¨ -Jack Kerouac from On The Road

Where do I start? I wasn´t supposed to end up in this place called Celendin, a small pueblo in the middle of freaking nowhere, Peru...it was supposed to be a sort of layover on the way to Chachapoyas via bus. But I shouldn´t have really been surprised here in South America, the land of disorganization, that it didn´t happen. There are only 2 buses per week to Chachapoyas from Celendin: today, which was canceled, because there weren´t enough passengers, and Thursday, so I have to wait 4 days here (I hope there are passengers then!)...alone in the middle of freaking nowhere. Even my book was vague about this little place, devoting only about a paragraph to it, and making it seem like they didn´t even come here themselves, but that it was an entirely plausable and lovely route to Chachapoyas...right. But hey, they´ve got internet!

Thank God for the nice young man sitting next to me on the bus who helped me go from bus station to random combi (microbus) driver to ask when the next ride to Chachapoyas was. (The real answer is that no one really knows what´s going on. Big surprise) Then he took me to a hospedaje, a place to stay, and I immediately said I would take it because I was so sick of carrying my backpack around. Then I discovered the filthy nasty bathroom--and I don´t mean a few hairs in the sink, I mean diarrhea in the toilet, trash on the floor, and a sink that I wouldn´t even get my toothbrush close to. And again, I remind you that I´ve stayed in some pretty sick looking places in my time as a cheap traveler, but this, after my frustrating morning (on 4 hours of sleep), was enough to make me finally sit down on my bed, a caved in piece of foam, and sob. Once I got it out of me, I sucked it up, packed up my stuff and told the guy I wouldn´t be staying there. I loaded my backpack on my back again and trudged though the market and down the streets as people started at me in bewilderment until I found another place.

And guess what? It´s incredible! There´s a shared bathroom for the whole place and no toilet seat, but there´s a shower with lukewarm water that I´m pretty sure won´t give me herpes, and don´t think I will get any sort of fungus should my feet grace the wood planked floor in my bedroom. And, oh my, I have an opaque window, and a light! And it´s only 10 soles, which is less than $4. Oh and how can I forget, apparently, there´s a cock fight tonight at the hostel...I don´t know how I feel about this in all honesty...but I´m intrigued.

More to come on if I make it to Chachapoyas...

But on the positive note, the ride here was ablsolutely stunning. Bumping along the dirt road in a jam-packed antique charter bus; picking up and dropping off campesinos with their loads of rice, various fruits and veggies, odd-sized containers and buckets, tools, and of course babies, chickens, and dogs; passing through the dry but incredibly green canyon valley; to the sound of the regional music with its panflute and other instruments foreign to me... I was overcome with the experience and with emotion. The only whitey on the road again, I sort of faded into the background of the bustling country life.

I´d be excited to do it again to Chachapoyas if it wasn´t another 10 or 12 hours...

My last thoughts on Cajamarca

Misc. Notes de Cajamarca:

1. I´m pleased with my decision to not bring jeans for the 3 month trip, which I was hesitant about at first...but the stretch pants are really working for me considering the fact that my diet consists of an assortment of bizarre foods supplemented with a lot (lot!) of rice, cookies, crackers, and sweets. I have to say that I literally think my head is getting fatter, because my hat doesn´t fit like it used to, ha!
2. The signal for come hither is different...it´s actually our hand signal for go away (sort of flicking the back of your hand toward the person, shoooing them away)... it confused me the first couple times.
3. Name isn´t as important here it seems. When you meet people here, get your kiss on the cheek, and there may not even be an explanation of how you know the person who introduced you. It´s more important to know things like where you came from and are you married? Really, it´s not embarassing if on the 2nd meeting or an hour into knowing the person, you ask, what´s your name?? I feel like in a culture that´s more collectivistic, it´s not important what your individual name is or how you are called.
4. Another thing I´ve noticed about the culture, is, although it is very collectivistic and family is very important, there is very little trust and love between other people outside the family (perhaps with the exception of a random adopted gringa--I´ve felt almost nothing but love from the people here). It´s a little surprising to me, but at the same time, again, it makes sense considering not so long ago in the country, neighbors were killing neighbors. It definitely sets up a strange prisoner´s dilemma situation, where people kind of act like assholes to eachother because if they don´t, someone might do it to them...for example, my ¨mom¨picked roses out of someone´s garden the other day...I thought it was strange, but figured, hey, maybe that´s ok here! Moments later, a woman ran out of her house and started screaming at us, and we ran away! (That that I believe this is normal practice by any means). And everyone has little ideas about how to remain safe from ¨the bad people¨, for example, my mom told me to sit in the middle of the bus, because it´s more secure...? I personally have felt more offense from people being so mistrusting of each other though, than actual threats...Also in the clinic--and this probably has something to do with the fact that Peru's medical system seems to be about 30 years behind ours, there is little respect given to the patients from the nurses and doctors.
5. Though it has a different root cause, respect for the environment is not part of the culture either. And I don´t mean that people aren't driving hybrid cars or recycling, I mean that people literally just throw their garbage everywhere. Finish your bag of cancha or bottle of Inca kola, throw it on the ground. Have to pee, just go in the street. Walking your dog and he shits on the sidewalk, well that´s just fine. I literally got spit on once walking through the market...and I like to think that it wasn't because I was the lone whitey. But, labor is cheap and abundant here, so it´s a job for someone to pick up trash I suppose. It´s just sad seeing beautiful natural places like the Llacanora waterfalls filled with bottles and plastic bags.
6. I am going to kill the taxistas here....walking down the street, every step is punctuated with honks from taxi drivers. I realize they are just trying to indicate that they are available, but seriously, when I´m walking down the street with purpose, faced straight ahead or maybe talking on my (stupid little Peruvian) cell phone, I´M NOT INTERESTED, and as a result of this practice the city is crazy loud with honking (also because they honk at anything and everything). At night the honking slows down and is replaced by dogs, chickens, and distant or not-so-distant reggaeton music.

The other day I visited the Ventanillas de Otuzco, which are little window looking holes carved into volcanic rock, where the ancient Caxamarcan culture burried their dead around 50BC. Woah. It´s crazy how many little gems there are like this all over Peru...just go for a walk and you´ll find something totally incredible.

So now, I´m off to Chachapoyas (on Sunday), which is supposed to be just as fantastic and culturally significant as Machu Picchu, but not as famous beause it´s a pain in the butt to get to. The area houses several fortresses of the Chachapoyas people, like Kuelap. And of course, it´s yet another long (16 hour) bus ride from Cajamarca, on crappy roads. BUT it´s through the Marañon valley, which is bigger than the Grand Canyon, and is supposed to be breathtaking.


Marañon Valley above. Kuelap fortress below, built in the year 1000.

a special entry for our dear friend guinea pig...

Fried Cuy (aka guinea pig). Yes, I did eat this...

Festival of Santa Rosa, Patron St of nurses

Ok, the first weekend I was in Cajamarca I was told that we would be celebrating Nurse´s day, or the day of Santa Rosa, de Lima, the patron saint of nuses. I figured, ok, that´s probably like any of our many minor holidays that nobody really does anything for--Arbor Day or Columbus Day for examples. Oh, how I underestimated the ability of the Peruvians to party.

I looked it up--there are 3,000 festivals in Peru annually--that means there is partying being had in several places around the country every single day. And Peruvians don´t mess around, folks. Their fireworks, though quite terrifying, put all American efforts to shame....sure I was afraid that at any moment, the vast structures of bamboo and metal, which they attached fireworks to and set to flame mere feet from observers, would explode and consume the hundreds of bystanders who came out for the show, but it was spectacular! And at the same time that these structures were setting off domino-effects of fireworks as well as shooting fireworks up in the sky, several instrumental bands were playing, and people were dancing in the streets. It was a fabulous feast for the eyes. I stood close to one of the many family members who had come out for the evening and just let myself be mesmerized by all the happenings. Every so often, my trance would be interrupted by someone shoving a shot of pisco or a small, communal glass of beer at me.

After the fireworks ended, we stopped into a little food stall for some piping hot, delicious tamales. Then someone ran for a bottle of Licor Anisado (hard liqour made from Anis). The bottle and a small glass was passed around the circle, each person pouring a shot for the next until the bottle was gone. Never have I seen a bottle of liqour go so fast...and I again, I state, I´m from a Catholic family, that likes to have fun! Each time the bottle came to me, I tried to explain, look I´m a little Gringa, and I don´t have the tolerance of a Peruvian...but their desire to win the game of get the white girl drunk prevailed. We took to the streets after the bottle was gone to dance. The fabulous part about the family unit, is that I always feel safe. They are like personal body guards, always on the lookout for eachother.

In the US, it´s always the kids who stay out and party late, right? Well here, the first to retire to the car to pass out were the teen-agers, followed by me and the aunts, and finally finally finally, the uncles and my ¨dad¨stumbled to the car around 3:30am. I have to admit, I was a little worried about how much the drivers had drunk as well as the fact that we were in the mountains, but who was I to protest? These people are pros...so I closed my eyes and trusted, and sure enough we got home with no problems whatsoever.

Now, the party didn´t stop with one night...oh no. I woke up at 8:30 the next day for a parade of grand scale, followed by a lunch with the nurses and doctors at the clinic. The lunch was supposed to be at 2, but since nothing runs on time here, ever, we didn´t eat until almost 4...which left a lot of time for various cheers to nurses, and of course everyone´s favorite game--make Rachel, or as I´m called here: Raquelita, drink! It helps somewhat that I´m allergic to yeast and so cannot drink beer...even still they got me to take a few sips, and I could not get out of drinking 4 pisco sours...oh geeze. Nothing like being tipsy in the afternoon with a bunch of people who can´t understand you when you´re sober! Food was of course followed by dance: cumbia and salsa. The ``lunch`` went until about 6:10, when we realized, oh no! We´re missing the prayer service for Santa Rosa...so the bunch stumbled to the chuch, which by the way is no problem at all to be a little tipsy at chuch on a holiday, in fact, it might be the only way to go. Then around 7, I sleepily went home, while the rest stayed out...I´m telling you, we Americans pale in comparison to Peruvians in our ability to party. They work very hard and they play very hard.

LUNCH!

Other things I´ve been up to lately: Hiked to some waterfalls in the country; visited the baños del Inca for a soak in a warm sulfery hot spring that the Incan royalty used to bathe in; hiked through a rock forest called Cumbe Mayo that features pre-Incan water canals cut from stone; and of course acquired myself another Peruvian ``boyfriend.``

Tonight, there´s another fiesta for something or other...

Cumbemayo

Cajamarca continued

Can I please start this post by saying that the internet place is blasting 50cent, and I cannot help but giggle about the skinny Peruvian boy unknowingly blasting music about ganstas and hos. Another note: I´ve posted a lot in the past week or so, so you might want to scroll through and make sure you´re up to date ;)

Also, I wanted to note that I do read all the comments even though--disculpe me--I didn´t respond to them earlier. I´d love it if this could be a place for discussion should people choose (I´m looking at you Anne White´s spanish class ;-) ), and I know Markie volunteered to post an updated map of where I am in the comments section ...eventually.

Where do I begin? I´m in love with this old city. It´s been conquered, mined (for gold), used as a post for revolutionaries like Simon Bolivar against the Spanish, a home to the Incas with preserved hot spring stone baths, stone "chairs," and trails leading all the way to Cuzco, as well it was a battle ground during the war with Chile. Now it`s known for its cows who come when called by name, as well as its fabulous cheese and manjar blanco. Like all the towns, it has a plaza de armas, which is sort of the town center. The streets are windy, hilly, and made out of stone with lots of stairs, and the town is graced with several stunning Baroque churches.

My favorite part of the town is the mercado (the market) where you can buy literally anything you desire, from shoe insoles made out of local leather, to underware that says ¨stripper,¨to a live lizard, wheels of cheese, baskets of bread, school supplies, herbal medicine, fresh squeezed juice, or the regional favorite--fried guinea pig. One of the best things is that you can buy any number of things in any amount, for example I bought 6 clothes pins the other day. And the food in the streets is absolutely phenomenal. Not only is there a crazy variety due to Peru´s biological and cultural diversity, but it´s a fascinating experience every time. It´s wonderful to me that you can be high up in the mountains, yet be drinking a fairly local papaya, pineapple, and banana smoothie, because the jungle is next door. Similarly, they´ve got fresh seafood everywhere.

The challenge for me here with food (other than comsuming too much of it), is definitely the meat...In my pictures, which I am happy to say I finally have uploaded (see link below), there is a picture of a plate of food I was served...it is literally the most meat I have ever seen on one plate in my entire life...and I come from a midwestern Catholic family who loves their meat. You have to check it out. The other problem is the vast amout of carbs they serve in one meal. The big meal is at lunch around 2pm, and after you´ve been starving after your measly breakfast of crackers and coffee six hours ago, you wolf down the pile of rice and potatoes (present at every meal, and if you´re lucky another starchy thing like crackers, platanos, or yucca). Then you pass out, because it´s all your body can do to digest and overcome the inevitable blood sugar crash following. The big meal also consists of two courses, the entrada, which is usually soup, and then the main course of some kind of meat and the aforementioned mountain of starch, and is often accompanied by fresh juice. Then your last meal of the day is around 9pm, which again does not sit well for me...but I must say, it´s incredible how adaptable and intelligent the human body is.

Additionally, I find myself hanging around the food stalls, which is probably my 2nd favorite task, because it´s just too fun. People are always surprised by my presence and ask me all sorts of questions. It´s a fabulous experience standing around in the street, sharing your drink or snack with the other people taking a break in their day, and watching the bustling around you. My favorite treat is definitely the warm drinks--either of Quinoa (a grain), maca (a jungle herb), or a special ¨emolient¨ made of aloe, alfalfa, honey, linseed, limon, bitters, and potentially other things. Some of the things I tend to grab to eat are cachanga--fried dough stuffed with cheese; any array of pastries filled with carmely manjar blanco; these little speckly eggs that the vendor peels, sprinkles with salt and puts in a plastic bag with a tooth pick; and chancha--Peruvian popcorn, which is kind of like corn-nuts. It´s no wonder there´s a verb in Spanish that literally means to get fat or fatten up: engordar.

Drinking an emolient

Special note for when you´re out and about: bring toilet paper, because nowhere has it, and be prepared to squat...and throw your TP in the trash. None of this is new to me, living in Bali for a summer (as well as other places...in fact, I feel like outside the US, it´s pretty common that the plumbing can´t handle TP). Because of the tp in the trash, the bathrooms have an unmistakable smell of yuck, but at least most of the toilets flush via handle and you don´t have to pour a bucket of water in the bowl!

On to family time! Family is very important here. Every Sunday the family goes out to eat together, sometimes just the immediate family, sometimes with a mixing of siblings, brother or sister-in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins etc. It´s amazing to me too that when they go out at night, it´s always with family. We went to a festival last weekend, which will be it´s own blog entry eventually, and it was with all various family members. I was amazed there were no friends in the group, and especially that the 15 year old didn´t go with her friends or bring any along. That doesn´t really happen in the US. Sure we get together with our families to celebrate holidays and other things, but for the most part we go out with our own friends. Also on a semi-related note, you always always always greet people here: one kiss on the right cheek between girls and girls and guys, and handshakes between men. The handshake has sort of died out in the US, unless you are meeting someone for the first time, and even then, especially with the younger crowd, it´s often not used anymore. I have to say I enjoy the intimate greetings, but I still haven´t figured out whether I´m suppossed to kiss my ¨dad¨on the mouth or not...it kind of seems like that´s what is done in this particular family, but it´s hard to tell, haha, so every single time we greet each other, it´s a tad awkward. Oh well.

Well here they are, my photos, as well as another link for Rachel Sandler´s photos who was with me in Iquitos: and if you have trouble viewing them, email me, and I will give you my password if you promise not to order a bunch of pictures :)http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=238727511/a=43035390_43035390/t_=43035390
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=758301220135526518/l=418895881/g=14174425/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
Also, here´s a fabulous video of Patch Adams, in the airport coming back from Iquitos (in english!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kRywcN_4wM&feature=related

besos y mas besos, Rachel