¨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...
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