Semillitas (little seeds)

Colca Cañon: (end of August) I made a 3 day trek of Colca Canyon with 2 German girls and a pair of Auzzies. Don´t be too impressed by the 3 days...you cover the same ground as the 2 day trek but in 3 days, which I was definitely glad of, as it afforded plenty of time to relax and enjoy the journey as well as the destinations. Colca Cañon is supposedly twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, but I don´t believe it... Anyway, we spent our first night in a little village at the bottom and the 2nd in a place called ¨The Oasis,¨aptly named with its palm trees and swimming pools filled from nearby water falls. On the second day of hiking we happened upon a village festival and wound up dancing and drinking chicha (a regional alcohol, in this case made out of corn) with the locals, who were dressed up in colorful embroidered outfits. The last day, we awoke at 4:45am and climbed out of the canyon which took about 2 and a half hours--straight up. It was a killer. I´m not sure which was making me feel worse: the altitude climb or the low blood sugar, but I felt vomitous a good portion of the day. That night, after returning to Arequipa, the group reunited at a restaurant called ChiCha, which is owned by the most famous chef in Peru (possibly all of Latin America): Gaston Acurio. Then the 2 Aussies and I dragged ourselves to a local pub to drink some anis and mojitos before calling it a very long day.

Meat drying in the sun in Colca

Santiago: Chile is wonderful and surprisingly different from Peru (I know, I shouldn´t be surprised). Most notably, it is more expensive, more modern, more green, and the stray dogs are a lot healthier! The biggest drawback is that the food is not as good as in Peru despite being about double the price. They eat a lot more bread here (I´ve been told they are second only to Russia in per-capita bread consumption), and like in the mountainous areas of Peru, they eat a ton of dairy.
I have enjoyed being a sloth here in the palace of my parents´former exchange student´s family. They have a Spanish style home that is laid out on one floor with each room having a sliding glass door to the ample and lush garden area. ¨The garden¨ consists of a pool, hammoc, a set of wicker table and chairs, tons of green plants, flowers, and fruit trees, and 5 cats who live like kings.

On my first day I visited the home of Pablo Neruda, rented a bike and biked around--to the various parks (including a Japanese garden) and boulevards, the Plaza de Armas, and up Cerro San Cristobal to get a nice view of the city. Another day I went to La Moneda (their White House) which is much more accessable because the Presidenta (a woman: Michelle Bachelet) does not live there (business only...though still I am surprised at how close you can get). There are several art exhibitions in the basement which you can visit (which I did). Another day I visited one of the many fine wineries of Chile with Veronica and Manuel (my Chilean parents) and tasted lots of yummy wines and cheeses. I´ve spent a lot of time just hanging out with the family: going grocery shopping and running errands with them, etc. One night we had a party and I´d like to reiterate that South Americans really know how to party. Even though Chileans are supossed to be the least lively, the group of adults and kids were up until 3am drinking wine, eating sopapillas, and raucously playing a board game.

The day after the party, we went to Valporaiso, which is west of Santiago on the coast. The city is full of artists and remnants of English presense (as oppossed to southern Chile which is very German-influenced and Santiago which is very Spanish). I loved strolling the colorful streets with all the art work: murals, sculptures, clever graffiti, etc. We had coffee and cake at one of the many cafés tucked into the windy brick streets. Basically it was a lazy sea-side weekend, with lots of snoozing, wine, rich food, and nice walks. Yum!

Valporaiso

Just another wonderful family dinner of coffee, hot chocolate, and creamy cakes (Pictured at Café con Letras en Valpo)

Now I´m back in Santiago, making ¨chocolate pie¨(my rendition of brownies) with my 13 year old Chilean sister. On Wednesday I officially start my trek north.... (first to Arica by plane, then Pisco-Paracas-Chincha and Lima by bus, and finally Ioway!)

Reflections

Welp I know I´m backpacking again because I´m using citronela bug spray as ¨perfume,¨ guarding plastic silverware and napkins like it´s the depression, and finding myself sleeping on 15 hour buses and sunken-in beds. And it feels great!

Before I knew it, the clowning trip (and more than a month in Peru) have passed! This year I found Iquitos/Belen easier. I was familiar with the town, knew some people, and spoke a lot more Spanish. But I found that with this smoothness came a tendency to fall into unconsciousness. Traveling can be such a gift (and a point of exhaustion) because in the unfamiliar you are always having to be present in the moment and on your toes. This year, admist the poverty and the miserable conditions of some of the places we visited to clown, I found myself both more complacent (for which I felt ashamed) and also more able to connect with the people.

On the plus side, I found myself more able to keep up with the South Americans, specifically the Argentinians :), who are always having more fun than everyone else it seems. They are somehow able to stay out drinking and dancing until 4am (or later) and then be up in the morning to clown and paint and hold the attention of children. With my Peruvian, Columbian, and Argentine coaches, I was able to stay up most nights (but without drinking), however I always turned in while the South Americans sat smoking or sharing a bottle of beer, laughing and laughing... One of my friends advised me, ¨You just have to keep fighting¨...I´m not sure for what, but I´m trying to learn the ways.

On the other side of the coin, speaking about trying to remain strong and present in the moment: being with the kids in Belen can be very hard. Some are so clearly neglected: with filthy little bodies in tattered clothes, skin rashes and lice. It was obvious that one little boy I was with one afternoon at the workshops was simply not being cared for. He was 5 years old and looked like he was maybe 3. Who were his parents I wondered to myself angrily...and then had to release judgement and remind myself to just be with the boy in that moment and give him love. I didn´t know what more I could do. I can´t remember feeling so heartbroken as when I think of that little boy.

And so the challenge continues...trying to remain present. After an overnight bus ride, I am in Arequipa now. I tryed to push myself and pack in the town today (which is normally not my style), so I visited the Santa Catalina Monastery, which housed hundreds of nuns for almost 400 years within a stone walled city before being opened to the public in 1970. It is literally a city within a city, with streets, a mill, co-op stone ¨laundry¨ and baths, etc. Very cool. Tomorrow I will further explore the colonial white city, construted from white volcanic rock. This will include a visit to see Juanita, a 14 year old girl sacraficed and mummified by the Incas on a nearby volcano, and discovered 15 years ago after being frozen for hundreds of years.

This is what I´m talking about... a lovely Limeñan model with the classic Pilsner

Great T-shirt: If you love me, don´t yell at me, don´t insult me, don´t ignore me, don´t hit me, don´t violate me, don´t kill me... Love me!