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.