Viajar

Una de mis frases favoritas es de Mark Twain y dice que “el viajar es fatal para los prejuicios, la intolerancia y la estrechez de miras. Y eso hace que mucha gente necesite hacerlo urgentemente. Una visión más amplia de las cosas no puede ser adquirida vegetando en una pequeña esquina del mundo durante toda la vida.”

Yo crecía en una sociedad de clase media y experimentaba casa nada diversidad cultural. Nadie hablaba más de una idioma (además jerigonza) y la mayoridad de mis vecinos habían crecido en el mismo estado. En la escuela, nunca había conflictos culturales porque casi todo de los estudiantes practicaban lo mismos tradiciones culturales y religiosas.  En una manera, esta ambiental era perfecto para que crecer. No experimentaba los rasgos terribles de choques culturales como la violencia y odio que surge de malentendidos. Sin embargo, cuando alguien no experimenta diferencias culturales cuando están creciendo, olviden de la belleza de diversidad y también desarrolla prejuicios contra otras cultures. Eso, creo, es peor que los choques que existen cuando hay culturas diferentes.

Me dio cuenta del hecho que había crecido protegida de la realidad de la vida cuando el año, viajaba por otros países por la primera vez. Ante de irme a Perú, tenía una idea en mi mente de la vida peruana, pero todos de mis ideas se originaban de los acontecimientos protegidos que había experimentado en mi hogar. Pensaba que muchas de los estereotipos de cualquier persona quienes yo miraba en las películas eran pinturas precisas de la vida en otros partes del mundo. Sin embargo, lo que aprendí es eso: el mundo es más que las imágenes en las películas. Puedes leer y mirar, escuchar a música latina, y tratar de aprender la cultura de un lugar, pero hasta vayas, no puedes sentir la cultura. Puedes encontrar pedazos de una vida, pero hasta vayas al lugar para hablar y hacer amigos con los quienes viven allá, hasta vayas para experimentar los sabores de la comida y el oler de las calles, eres ciego a la cultura. El viajar abre la mente y cuestiona las tradiciones de alguien. Con viajar, viene la paz entre culturas.  Es necesario que viaje si queremos desarrollar un mundo sin prejuicios ni violencia. 

Para mi clase de espanol 101:

Sé que es un poco estereotípico a hablar de mi madre cuando el asunto es una mujer influénciale  en tu vida, pero creo que nunca tendré alguien más importante que mi madre. Ella me dio mis ojos morados, mis muñecas puntiagudas, y mi tendencia a poner los ojos en blanco, pero más que mis rastros físicos, me ha dado a yo mi tenacidad. Me ha dado un sencillo de responsabilidad en mi vida y la importancia de cuidar a mi familia. Los recuerdos mas tempranos de mi vida son de mi madre trabajando- fue de su trabajo a hogar, donde pasaba toda la noche haciendo cosas para nosotros. Siempre cocinaba cenas ricas con verduras frescas al mismo tiempo de limpiar la casa y ayudarme con mi tarea. A mi, parecía que ella nunca paraba por un minuto para relajar. Finalmente, a la nueve cuando se acostaba cada noche, iba a su cama para leer. Éste era la rutina de mi madre. Aunque ella trabajaba de jornada completa, nunca faltaba a mis partidos de futbol ni los conciertos de mi hermana. No sé como fue posible que hacer todo lo que ella hizo- era un “Super Mom.” La cosa más increíble de mi madre, sin embargo, no es todo lo que hizo; es su humildad. Ella me enseñó la importancia de hacer cosas no para ganar premios, sino para hacer la cosa justa. Nunca quejaba de su trabajo, de su artritis, ni de su tristeza, y todos los días cuidaba a mi y mi hermana. Forzaba que yo cumpliera mis promesas y que trabajara duro sin quejar. Esta tenacidad, su humildad ha sido la llave a mi vida. Cuando estoy al otro lado del mundo, pienso en ella y todo lo que me ha dado- nunca viajaría sin ella no me había enseñando del mundo. Sin ella, no entendería la significancia de responsabilidad y no tendría metas para mi vida. 

16 people from from 9 countries and a 5 day hike to Machu Picchu

I arrived back in Cusco at 11 last night, barely able to to keep my eyes open and smelling like horribly musty socks. Welcome to the Salkantay trek- 5 days of hiking through landscapes ranging from glacial mounatins to cloud forests, a lack of showers, and the most amazing people shoved into a bus for hours on end.

On Wednesday morning, I pulled myself out of bed at 4:30 AM to meet my tour group- Cusco is surprisingly quiet early in the morning when all the nightlife has faded and the market vendors haven´t started hauling out the day´s fresh bread and juice. We spent 2 hours on a winding bus ride to out starting point, Mollepata, a small town in the Sacred Valley that sees hundreds of backpackers pass thorugh its streets everyday. We enjoyed breakfast together before setting out on our journey.

The first leg of the hike followed a dirt road through green valleys and mountains. Pastures with horses and cattle were abundant and many locals caring for their hillside crops looked up for a quick hola¨¨ as we passed along the trail. We soon learned the diversity of our group- we had people from Germany, Spain, Ireland, Australia, Hong Kong, Brazil, Argentina, Peru, and the United States- together we could speak more than 5 languages and we ranged  in age from 18 (that would be me) to retired-and-travelling-around-South-America-in-a-camping-van. The sites were beautiful, but it was even more amazing to learn each person´s story- some were just on a vacation from work, but one couple (and Australian and Argentinean) had met in South America and decided to spend the next year travelling together. I quickly became friends with a girl named Mo, from Hong Kong, who writes and directs films and Michael, a guy from Brazil, who taught me to meditate at the top of Waynapicchu.

The hike eventually became steeper, which meant we began walking at ultra-slow speeds. At 12,000 feet, you feel like you weigh 50 pounds more than you do and every step is an exertion. Suddenly through, after weaving through switchbacks on muddy trails in the forest, we came to a clearing where in the distance, you could see a mountain covered in glaciers- the air felt cool and crisp, and we all collapsed on the hill for a look at the view and for a nice long snack break.

After lunch, we had an option to take a truck to our camp site (instead of walking) in order to go on an optional hike to a lagoon. We accepted- and the 18 of us climbed into the bed of the rickety vehicle and began a bumpy journey- the floor of the truck was missing pieces, so we could see the pot holes as our tires sunk into each depression one by one, and you really didn´t want to look out the side of the truck, where again, the cliff stood inches from our tires. As we bounced along the road, we picked up random Peruvians who used the truck like the local bus network. At one point, we were tailgated by a man on horse...only in Peru.

Near out camp site, we had to cross a creek bed and the truck got stuck, so we all huddled in the back third of the bed to get enough momentum to make it through the rocky mess. And then there we were, at the base of two glacial mounatins with a deep valley stretching infinitely, layered with mounatins to a our back.

We set up our tents in a small shelter and headed for the lagoon, a hike up what seemed like an innocent undulating pasture land. Every step was exhausting though and it felt like I had been running sprint for hours as I struggled to pick one foot up and put it in fron of the other. We climb along a river flowing with melted glacial waters and many cows dotting the rocky hillside. After more switchbacks, we slowly ascended a small hill and then we were struck with THE most beaustiful view I have ever seen- a teal blue lagoon situated at the base of one of the glacial mountains- everything was still and quiet except for the distant sound of water flowing from the mountain and into the lagoon. I just sat on a rock at the water´s edge in awe. After taking in the peace, Eduardo, our tour guide, taught us how to give our first offering to Mother Earth. Each of us took 3 coca leaves and blew them to the sun, north, south, to the sun again, and then placed them in a circle of rocks. We offered small candies as well (Mother Earth likes sugar) and the placed three rocks on top of our offering- each symbolizing the three animals of the Incas- the snake, puma, and condor. The moment was so serene, with the sun shining down on us and the the cool air brushing us from the lagoon. Sublime. We returned to camp  for tea time (Muña tea is delicious- a Peruvian version of mint)- tea wiith popcorn and crackers, and then we were treated to our chef´s delicious soups and meal.

The second day was a a day of mind-over-matter. We woke up at 5 before setting out through the deep valley, across rocky stream beds, and toward the Salkantay mountain. For the first 4 hours, we climbed switchback after switchback, gasping for air as the sun intensely beat down on our exposed faces (pretty much everything else was covered because it was so cold.) I couldn´t stop walking though, because if I did, I would probably never start again. By early morning though, we summited the mountain peak at 4,800 meters and then went on a small hike to another lagoon. Hopping from boulder to boulder, we approached a rock cliff that looked deep over another stunning bright blue pool of water. Again, we just sat there in silence- everything along this trail felt so sacred and words completely unecessary.

The afternoon hike was quite interesting. One guy accurately descibed it to me as ¨feeling like you´ve been in Antartica, Scotland, and the Amazon jungle all in the course of a few hours.¨ We descended the chilly thin-aired mountain peak,  which slowly transformed to rocky pastures with cows mulling over the green grass and boulders through which to weave. The temperature rose dramatically as we stumbled along the gravelly paths. We stopped at a farm for lunch and then continued our journey- gradually the air became humid and  suddenly I realized the once barren hillsides surrounding us now had bushes and an abundance of trees. In a canyon hugging our path, a large river accompanied us along our journey.

We met 2 young girls along the  path who were sisters and spent 2 hours walking to school eat way each day. They showed us plants that we could pick a long the way to make salad. My knees felt like jelly by the end of the hike, which was downhill for 5 hours. We finally reached the campsite though- where Bob Marley blasted form the snack shop and we all played soccer barefoot with a terribly flat ball. I love when people of all ages, all languages, and all cultures are connected my a beat up soccer ball. We fell asleep to rain and Marley´s ¨Feliz Navidad.¨

The last two days of the trek were not difficult simply because each time that we had an option to take a bus or walk, we always took the bus. In one bus, my seat wasn´t bolted to the floor. Safety is obviously Peru´s number one priority. It´s great. We went to hot springs in a little town named Santa Theresa and then spent the night ¨partying.¨ Basically, we sat around and argued about artifical intelligence and other strange subjects while another group bought lots of drinks from the camp store. A little Peruvian girl who lived at the camp spent time drawing with me and was quite demnding about drawing ¨gatitos¨; she also wanted to keep my passport as a little souvenir.

The last day, we walked form a hydro-electric plant to Aguas Calinetes, the touristy town in which everyone must stay before they travel to Machu Picchu. Although it´s the rainy season, we had been pretty lucky with the weather until the last few hours of our trip- and then Mother Earth decided to let all the water go. We walked in the pouring rain along the railroad tracks and by the time we reached the town, water was flowing in streams down the street. The mountains here are so vast and steep. We were in a little oasis surrounded by high rock faces. Most of my clothes didn´t stay dry in my backpack, but we all got to take hot showers for the first time in 4 days, which was an adequate consolation.

Everything in Aguas Calientes is literally for tourists, so it´s horribly overpriced and fake. Luckily though, a few of us met up with an independent hiking group who we had seen at each of our camp sites along the trek. The guide was a Peruivan, so he took us to a ¨local¨ place. It was literally a hole in the ground behind an unmarked door. We shuffled down a flight of steep steps to a dirt-floored room with two picnic tables, a bunch of local guys, and an abundance of pitchy Andean music. The host lady served up some chicha stuff (I opted out- I already tried the drink and wasn´t a fan,) and we all just sat around and talked. The guide works in Cusco, so hopefully I´m going to help him learn English and he´ll show me around Cusco. I also met a German girl who has been travelling all around South America for the past 10 months and we shared all of our crazy Peruvian stories.

The next morning, we had to wake up at 4:30 to catch the 5:30 bus to Machu Picchu. And then suddenly we were there- of course, every postcard that I´d seen walking the street of Cusco obviously doesn´t do the vast structures, steep mounatins, and surrounding valleys any justice. The buildings are complex and orderly- religious temples, storage areas, fountains and bathing vesicles, residencial areas, and an astronomical observatory. It´s crazy to imagine who and how the city was and built. More impressive than the structures themselves, however, is the sacred location of the city. When I climbed the terraces of the agricultural area to look back at what you would consider the stereotypical Machu Picchu image, the energy of the place is breathtaking- two rivers flowing around a beautiful oasis. You can see for miles around- a snowy mountain range, the winding road taking buses of passengers to the site, and valleys full of green plant life. Early in the morning, foggy clouds half-covered Waynapicchu, but the sun soon greeted us with intensity and illuminated the amazing stonework.

I climbed Waynapicchu, the steep mountain behind of all the structures, for an amazing view of the argicultural terraces. The 40 minute climb is ridiculous- steep, narrow staircases with ropes drilled to the sides of the boulders to assist in the ascent. We had to crawl through a cave dripping with puddles of rain water and squeeze through several tight spaces between rock walls to finally reach the summit. Again, I just sat in awe- it was a condor´s view of the city and of all the surrounding landscapes. There are actually buildings that the Incas constructed hugging the face of the steep mountain and a network of steps zigzaging through its mutiple layers. Exhausted, I napped in the warm sun and then attempted to meditate with Michael. It is incredibly difficult to keep your back straight for more than a few minutes.

For the rest of the day, I walked around with one of my Brazilian hiking mates- we pretended to cook our meals in the agricultural area, washed our hands in the bathing area, and just wandered the struutures. At one point, I just sat in a little park in the agricultural sector and  did a quick sketch of the landscape. It is crazy to imagine a bustling city, with people living in the houses, selling food along the pathways, and worshipping at the many temples.

We took a backpacker train home and then a 3 hour bus ride (in which we almost hit a motorcycle driver head on while passing in th left lane. Go safety!) and then our little family parted ways- some going home after a short vacation, others getting into their camper van to drive the crazy roads of South America, and me back to my ¨home¨ in Cusco, ready for more adventures. Machu Picchu is grand is all senses of the word, but the journey and people (as always) were more incredible. It is absolutley true that travelling does something amazing for the soul.

Happy almost Thanksgiving in the US :)

love,
Leah

Update before Salkantay trek

I spent the weekend in the Sacred Valley, an area outside of Cusco full of mountains, beautiful views, and endless Inca ruins. It is called the sacred valley because the Urubamba river snakes through area, providing vital water for fertile soils and a pleathora of crops and livestock- endless varieties of corn, potatos (there are more than 1000 varieties in Peru), and of course, alpaca.

On our first stop, a group of Andean women served us coca tea before demonstrating  how they make and dye alpaca yarn- they actually use a parasite that grows on local cacti to fix the dyes.
We spent the morning touring ruins at Chinchero, which was my first glimpse of the stark, towering mountains surrounding us in our little green oasis. In the distance, you can see hanging glaciers clinging to two mountain peaks as well as spotty snow dotting the faces. Our guide, Antonio, always had stories to tell us about his life, and he mentioned that since he was a kid, the glaciers have receded more than half way and in the next thirty years, they could disappear altogether. As we drove through the winding roads hugging the edges of sheer cliffs, we were often stopped by young kids herding donkeys and alpaca.

The Moray ruins were definitely my favorite (you can see a picture in my last post- they are terraced and circular.) The Incas built these ruins as an agricultural experiment. Each terrace actually has its own microclimate, which allowed the Incas to experiment with which growing conditions were best for each crop.
We then drove off to the Maras salt pans- this was the stereotypical don´t-look-down-as-your-driver-takes-the-curves-at-60-MPH as we inched along a one-way dirt road to the parking lot. We often met buses and would play chicken until one of the vehicles gave in and backed up the twisting road to let the other pass. The salt pans are loacated in a valley where a trickling natural salt water spring flows into more than 3000 small pools. With sunlight, the water evaporates and the salt can be collected. We tried the water, which was surprisingly warm and less surprisingly, extremely salty.

Then onto a giant buffet lunch at a touristy restaurant in Urubamba- the Sacred Valley is so much greener than Cusco. Even in its cities, everything is covered with vegetation, colorful flowers, and the calming sound of the Urubamba river never escapes you. At lunch, I was able to try alpaca, which was actually delicious.

On the second day, we visited the Pisac ruins and market. The ruins are massive, covering an entire mountain, with trails hugging the edge of cliffs and structures built into the face of the mountain. We spent 3 hours climbing from the top of the ruins town into the town of Pisac- there´s a cemetary embedded into the side of a cliff, large stone tower-checkpoints, which were used to send messages from one to the next about invaders, and an atronomy rock used for the Incan calendar. After some delicious empanadas for lunch, we headed off into the market- a dizzying maze of tents full of alpacas sweaters, carved figurines, silver jewelery, and too much more. Because many tourists come to the market, I found that the vendors charged much more than they do in Cusco and are less likely to bargain. It was interesting how quickly the market transforms from tourist treasures to local necessities- one second you´re trying on llama socks and finger puppets and then suddenly you´re in a busy market full of potatos, yarn dye, and plastic lawn chairs.

Yesterday afternoon, I had one of my favorite experiences so far in Peru. At construction, I met two guys who spent two months working at the construcution site for which I am currently plastering the walls and they invited me to come with them to meet Marco, my construction boss, for chicha, the local drink. We went to a local restaurant-bar near the construction site and I tried my first sip of chicha beer, a fermented corn drink, which I found to be bitter and a tiny bit sour. The glasses are giant-I need to hold it with both hands. Although I didn´t take more than a few sips of the drink, it was amazing to just sit with Marcos in a local place and talk about everything- drywall, Christmas festivals, his family, and all of the drinking customs in Peru. As we talked, the regular locals curiously started at us, listening to our broken Spanish and smiling when we broke out in laughter. Marcos says that it´s very uncommom for tourists to come to such a local place and when they do, they usually only drink beer or mixed drinks, so it was special for us to be sharing chicha and living with the locals. I rode the bus home in the dark, the door hanging wide open and our driver honking before blindly whipping around corners. I love Cusco.

Today I meandered through the parks that serve as islands between the crazy 4 lanes of traffic and enjoyed all of the food that will probabaly get me sick- fresh strawberries from some random lady, served on little ceramic plates that she arranged herself, popcorn, and ice cream from one of the many bicycle stands that camp out on the corners.

Tonight I´m going out to dinner with a couple who works with me at construction and then I have to pack for my trek- I´m off for a 5 day hike to Machu Picchu through snowy mountains, the humid jungle, and finally to the famous Incan ruins. Goodbye for now :)

Walking the canopy walk in the Tambopata jungle- 30 meters off the ground



at the Pisac ruins (November 13th)



Ruins in the Sacred Valley



My family in the jungle



My first wander-through-random-side-streets-until-you-find-something-cheap lunch

The preschool that we are building. We spent all week plastering the cinderblock walls to the right.

There is nothing like a sunset on the Madre de los Dios river

One of the many traditional dances of Peru. The costumes vary from village to village.



The Moray ruins. Each terrace has its own microclimate so the Incas could experiment and learn which growing environment was best for each plant.




Maras salt pans



After eating TOO much rice in the jungle, Bailey and I decided to cook dinner- banana pancakes, scrambled eggs, and grilled cheese.

My first combi ride, sick day and four sol lunch.

Over the past four days, I´ve fallen in love with Cusco. As my volunteer project, I am currently helping build a preschool high in the hills around the city. I live close to the center, so in order to reach my site, I have to take a minibus, which equals squishing 30 people into a vehicle meant for 12- ladies with babies tied to their backs in colorful blankets, young school children in matching uniforms, and then us, the gringos looking as out-of-place as ever. The bus wound up narrow cobblestone streets and finally into native neighborhoods, where houses are built on the sides of eroding clay embankments.

Right now we are helping to plaster the walls and lay a concrete floor on the two-story structure that will eventually serve as a preschool for the locals. As we progress, the people of the neighbordhood constantly wander in to say hello and inspect our work (which is generally sub-par and slow- plastering is difficult!) Because we are obviously short on money, when we aren´t plastering walls, we sit outside and use hammers to straighten out bent nails. Empty concrete bags are actually imbedded into the cinder block and concrete walls as ¨reinforcement.¨ I promise to get some pictures up of this soon! Today, I arrived at the work site a little early and this six-year-old girl was wandering around. Most of the kids here will say hola and smile, but are shy (I mean, I get it: I am pretty strange looking and can´t seem to string a correct sentence together in Spanish.) Angela, however, wanted to talk up a storm, and she told me all about her school, her brothers and sisters, then returned home so that she could get her doll to show me. The doll had no eyes or arms, but she carried it in her sweater on her back with infinite amounts of pride. I love moments like that.

On Monday, I went on a Cusco city tour. My tour guide, although English speaking, was pretty terrible at his job, but the ruins were incredible. It´s such a moment of tranquilty when in just 10 minutes, you can leave the honking cars, construction workers, and air pollution for the silent hillside. The Saqsayhuaman national park contains stone ruins that you could easily spend a day hiking through. The views of the city are incredible and even more incredible are the size of the stones- some weigh as much as 600 tons and the walls are built in a flower formation so that they can withstand strong earthquakes. Along with several ruins, I also visted the Catedral at Plaza de Armas and Qorikancha, which were interesting because they exemplify the clashing of two cultures- the Inkas and Spanish empire. At Qorikancha, the first 6 feet of wall are the perfect Inka stones without any mortar or gaps, and then right above it, there is the colonial stonework constructed by the Spaniards after they conquered the Inka empire. I was also able to visit the house of Garciloso de la Vega, an man who was half of Inkan descent and half of Spanish. He spent his life cataloging the Inkan culture and wrote several books imperative to its preservation. His house is now a museum, but I just spent an afternoon sitting in the plaza and marveling at the architecture. Intricately carved wooden railings and pillars all painted blue against stark white walls, stone arches and the beautiful orange roof. As I was drawing, an old museum guard came over and sat next to me to watch me draw. We talked a for a while and he told me all about Garciloso and about his own life as well. After the museum, I wandered through narrow cobblestone streets and found a nice small park with fountains. My favorite part of Cusco is wandering the local streets- one day, I got a big chicken sandwich and my first Inka Cola (it tastes like bubble gum) for 4 soles, or just over $1. I also made a food budget because there are just too many delicious things to try- cakes, ice cream, pies- I´ve made it a goal to try a new sweet everyday. Lemon merengue pie here is to die for.

Yesterday I got incredibly sick- high fever, headache, and chills, which I think may be attributed to sun poisoning. Cusco has the highest UV index in the world and after work yesterday, a couple of guys and I decided to walk from the construction site back to Cusco. The walk was awesome- we got to pass all the adobe brick houses, guinea pig farms (haha), and little neighborhoods, but the walk was easily 2 hours in the hottest part of the day. I spent all day in bed, so now I must go and explore to make up for lost time! Tonight I´m going to a native dance with  a couple that works with me.

Oh and I´m also loving my homestay- lunch is the big meal, so we all sit around and talk. I am actually beginning to understand what my host family says the first time and can relay my thoughts to them with less effort. We laugh a lot and it´s always satisfying when we can understand each other without repeating ourselves too much. Still missing chedder cheese though.

Leah

Back From Tambopata

Hola de Cusco! I arrived back in Cusco Sunday morning at 6 AM from the Tambopata Reserve, a section of the Amazon jungle located in southeastern Peru near the Bolivian border. I´m not really sure where to begin-
I left Cusco on October 18th for Puerto Maldonado, a jungle town off the Madre de los Dios River. After a long conversation at the terminal terrestre with an Andean women trying to sell me blankets and instead teaching me Quechua, I boarded the bus for a 10 hour ride full of 180 degree turns scaling the side of mountains and speed bumps every few miles, for which the bus would come to a complete stop roll over, then speed up again. At one point, the bus stopped with no warning and a lady boarded the bus at 2 AM to sell her freshly baked bread and every so often men would rush off to pee before continuing our journey. Luckily I slept for most of the ride, but it´s quite strange to fall asleep in the freezing Andes and wake up in a humid jungle town sprawling with palm trees and colorful shacks.
Hector, the director of Inkaterra, picked me up at the bus station and a motortaxi (a motorcycle with a cart attached to it) brought me to the office. In Puerto, there are virtually no cars, just motorcycles zooming through the muddy streets. After carefully traversing the steep clay embankments to the river, we boarded a ¨peki-peki¨ a long wooden boat, packed it with viveros- food and water- before setting out on the two hour journey to the lodge. Ahead of us, the sky was a nice hazy blue, which I soon learned meant rain. One minute we were effortlessly gliding downstream toward Bolivia and the next, gusts of wind were rocking the rickety boat and horizontal columns of rain engulfed our boat. We had to pull to the side and tie to boat to a tree to prevent it from flipping over. The storm passed quickly as I desperately tried to wrap my dripping backpack in a poncho and we were on out way again.
Arriving at the small port of the volunteer lodge, we carried all of the food up clay steps and to an oxen cart. Everything that we need- water, gasoline, toiletries, and food, must be imported from Puerto Maldonado, so it was shocking to see how much we consume. Jorge, the lodge leader, tied himself in a rope attached to the cart and pulled it along the makeshift path, at least a 10 minute walk. Just as the darkness set in, I came upon the volunteer lodge- a walkway lined with tree cookies leading to two small buildings with thatched roofing and screen walls. The living arrangements were more than comfortable- I shared a room with one other volunteer, Bailey, and our cook, Trinidad. 4 bunk beds lined the walls and a cold shower awaited me, which I soon learned to embrace.
I could probably write a 200 page book about the next 18 days, so I´ll just mention some of my favorite memories:
- On the first day, we went to the Inkaterra farm to pick fruit for the guest lodge and I quickly learned that machetes are the preferred tool for everything. Gilberto would chop down a bunch of platanos and then take his machete to the whole banana tree. I got to help collect (and of course, sample) multiple types of platanos, carambolas (starfruit), paltas (avocados), cacao beans (for chocolate), limones, and several other fruits we don´t even have in the US. Carambolas are so plentiful here that during lunch, we would often have refrescos de carmabola or limon.
- One afternoon, we visited a family of the Machiguenca tribe who lives along the river. Their pet spider monkey shyly jumped from rafter to rafter of their shack inspecting us as we approached the sitting area. Noe (Noah in English), came to our boat and brought a picture of what looked like milk. After rinsing the cup in the river (which is contaminated with not only sewage but is also laden with mercury from gold mining), he handed me a cup of the liquid, which I politely took a sip of, expecting it was a fresh glass of milk. To my surprise, it was a a homemade alcoholic drink called Chicha made from fermenting yucas. We went up to his house, where his wife continued to serve us chicha, as well as a milder purple version and homemade Piscos sours. When Noe would go back to get more drinks, Jorge and Juan would gulp down the chicha for me. I took a few sips of the pisco sour, which I actually enjoyed- it´s citrusy, and more importantly cold. After a welcome, we went to the dancing hut, where Noe adorned me and Bailey with red face paint and then we attempted to start a fire by just rubbing two pieces of wood together. Even with 5 men huddled around, the wind conquered us and all we could get was a little smoke. Noe told us the history of Machguenca and how over time, various settlers have come in and massacred their tribes. Now small villages and familes dot the Madre de los Dios river, but no large settlements exist. Then for the main meal- a spaghetti mixture and tortoise leg...with the scales and claws still attached. I tried a little and it didn´t have much of a taste, but again, the boys ate the meat for us. Noe´s two-year-old daughter pushed a broken tricycle around the yard and would play peek-a-boo with me from behind her mother´s legs. Throughout the day, I was constantly amazed at the hospitality that Noe and his family provided when they barely had enough for themselves. It was incredible to me to see how little they had- their makeshift shack and couple chickens, yet were happy with their life and eager to share it with us.
- Every afternoon, after a siesta (the middle of the day is unbearably hot and humid), we would all play volleyball outside the volunteer lodge as the sun set behind the trees. At first Bailey and I were terrible, bruising our arms with our inaccurate hits, but by the end, we could actually compete. It was so fun because we spent the entire time yelling Spanish at each other, and even though we couldn´t say much, it connected us all. My favorite afternoon however, was a day where it rained all day and the volleyball court was a muddy mess. We took down the net and played a game of soccer. Because the ground was so wet, we spent more time on our butts than on our feet, but I felt so alive. Of course the middle-aged men around me could pull about any move and meg me constantly, but we got really competitive and came inside caked in mud, full of smiles.
- As part of the volunteer work (we didn´t really work that much because the volunteer program is new and they´re still organizing it), we spent one morning collecting seeds from seed traps in the jungle. Juan, a forest engineer, explained to me that an Indian researcher set up this five-year project- there are mesh traps hanging from trees 5 meters apart in a 14 x 14 grid. Every two weeks, we collect and document every one of the seeds and fruits that fall into the trap. The data is used to monitor how far a seed needs to be from its mother tree in order to successfully grow. If its too close, thew mother plant will out-compete it and the plant has no chance of survival. Juan explained to me each seed´s name and it was just cool to actually be part of research in the Amazon.
- A few times, we woke up at 4:30 AM to go birdwatching on a canopy walk 30 meters off the ground. Zoos give you this false impression that jaguars just walk the jungle and monkeys are hopping from every tree, but ín reality, you wait for twenty minutes just to see a bird and you´ll rarely see snakes or mammals. We were lucky and got to see a wide diversity of birds- toucans, parrots, and many other species. In my 18 days, we spotted one giant yellow snake, pelejos (sloths), several species of frogs on night walks, tarantulas (which quickly scurried into their holes), and a few families of monkeys. I love how rare it is to see animals in the jungle because when you finally do spot a bird, there´s a rush of excitement.

I could go on for pages about the adventures, but I think what´s most important is the tempo of the jungle. Many days we had nothing to do because it was either raining, too hot, or there simply was no work. At first, it was difficult for me to just be there and have nothing to accomplish. Over my three weeks though, I learned to embrace the slow tempo and kind of take the moment for what it is- we drew endless animals, read curled up in our beds, played Spanish monopoly, and just enjoyed the smaller things (like actually getting the volleyball over the net.) I already miss that slow-life feel, but I think I´ll forever have a greater appreciation for smaller things. In America, we´re over-stimulated- we´re given too many choices and too much variety so that when something small and amazing comes along, we´re almost disappointed because we don´t know how to take it for what it is. I hope that I´ve begun to learn the art of simple enjoyment and living for now.

It´s so difficult to write because I´m leaving out entire parts of my journey, but I guess this will be all for now. I decided to come home for Christmas because I want to spend the holidays with my family. I´ll be home December 20th, so I have 6 weeks to go. Nevertheless, I am loving Cusco right now, especially in the early morning when everything is sunny and the streets are quiet. People are friendly and I find myself striking up conversations with whoever seems to be near. Today, I´m going to do construction work and then I am off for a Cusco city tour. More later. Oh also, the sounds of rain and rumbling thunder in the jungle is the most amazing this ever. And also, I miss cheddar cheese.

love,

Leah