In a circular way, I have returned to the place where I started.

Three years ago I received the call to journey to Peru.  It was a difficult process, the manifestation of that dream... many lessons on the path after I experienced a head injury the same summer, a whack on the head that woke me up and reminded me to follow my soul's calling rather than any stress over money or cultural expectations of work.

And then, while fulfilling one call, I received another.  So soon, no time to rest between missions issued by Spirit! 

This new calling, received during an ayahuasca ceremony in the Sacred Valley of Peru, told me I needed to come home and start the revolution!  It was clear that I would not be alone in this work, and that the timing was to come during the Democratic National Convention (DNC) in Denver August 24-28!

So many of us are living the revolution already, creating changes in ourselves and our communities to make the shift to more conscious and sustainable living.

By Bringing the Revolution to the Streets of Denver, this subtle shift will become apparent to the larger public... sharing our growth and healing with the wider community, to be witnessed by those present in person and through the eyes of the progressive media.

I am planning to create a ritualistic demonstration of the revolution of paradigm shift that has been occuring within the hearts, dances, festivals, and communities of so many of us! 

This weekend I will lead a workshop at the DreamTime festival in Paonia, CO (dreamthefuture.org) to begin sprouting the seeds of what may transpire at the DNC!

Stay tuned as the plan unfolds

In Vilcabamba--the Sacred Valley in Ecuador-- we found some truly inspirational work on behalf of the environment!

Our first stay was at the Rumi Wilco Nature Reserve and Ecolodge, where a couple from Argentina--Alicia and Orlando Falco-- has been living for many years.  They are re-planting the indigenous Wilco species, among others, and have united their neighbors to preserve their lands together.  Their goal is to create a nature corridor that runs all the way to the nearby Podacarpus National Park.  They grow small batches of shade-grown organic coffee-- truly the best coffee we tasted in all of S. America.  Their 90 or so acres are covered with trails that run up the hills and down to the creek, with interpretive signs throughout!  Papaya, guanabana, and other tropical fruits burst seasonally from the trees. Butterflies and birds flit throughout this protected paradise.  Alicia and Orlando welcome volunteers to stay at the Eco-lodge and aid in the care of the land.  We only wished we had enough time...

The Podacarpus National Park near Vilcabamba is a lush and magnificient piece of cloud forest, dripping with flowers of all colors and shapes.  In our hike along the ridge of the mountains it rained off and on all day, giving us the spectacular views of 10 or so different rainbows!  (Butterlies and Rainbows all in one place... Vilcabamba holds a special place in my heart).  With all-day rain, of course, comes ankle deep mud and wet clothes... but the beauty of it all far surpassed the discomfort!

After our visit to Podacarpus, we had the opportunity to visit Sacred Suenos, a small (1-member) intentional community a 3-hour walk up from Vilcabamba.  Yves, originally from Canada, came to Ecuador with the intention of starting a permanent community, but has found instead that his community is a rotating crew of international volunteers.  He intentionally purchased a piece of land degraded from slash and burn agriculture, and has been working to both restore the original forest and also create a sustainable living environment.  He is growing some crops, has built several structures, has a composting toilet, and a solar shower.  The only electricity runs a small CD player, also solar.  Yves is truly living the dream that my friends and I in the States long for... living sustainably (well, working towards it), connected to the land.  Again, we wished we had more time to volunteer, learn to milk the goat and make goat cheese, carrying our supplies up the hill from town on the donkeys!

Near Yves' land is a parcel of nearly 150 acres, with a house and a waterfall.  The waterfall is a destination for groups on horseback.  The land is for sale, and one of our dreams is to buy the land and start our own sustainable living experiment....We have heard that Vilcabamba is becoming "gringo-ified," with more and more people moving there from the states, raising land prices astronomically.  Apparently, it is many peoples' dream to find a place to live simply and affordably...

In 3 weeks we have travelled from the highlands of La Paz, to Lima, through Northern Peru and coastal Ecuador, to Baños, Ecuador--again in the Andes Mountains.

The night before we left La Paz, I watched the ladies sorting through the trash piled up on the street. Piles of hair (the street of our hostel was like haircutter´s row! The pelequerias were still open for haircuts at 11pm on a Friday night) on top of piles of pink toilet paper (the typical color of Bolivian TP, and everyone throws it all into the trash, as the plumbing can´t handle the paper). The women who ran the hotel, three young cholitas (women in traditional dress, typically who work in the markets... these women wear their long hair in two braids, with shawls and pleated skirts that now are all made of synthetic fibers) were working to fix the internet in our hostel... quite an interesting spectacle to see these traditionally dressed women working to sort out modern technology! (I saw a sign in La Paz, that a store was looking to hire either a cholita, or a chica (young woman), illustrating how the cholitas are seen as a separate class).

We marvelled that the signs in the bus station were in Spanish, Quechua, Aymara, and English! The ladies begging in the bus terminal all had on the antique style of mantas (shawls)-- not the bright modern ones that are all machine made. I was sad to leave Bolivia, with its chaos; the people, who when you thank them, almost always say "gracias usted" (thank you), and call everything by its diminutive-- bread is not pan, but pancita; the snacks sold for mornings, different snacks in the evening; sad to leave without seeing the Salar Uyuni, the salt flats that inspired Salvador Dali; and to leave behind the graffiti everywhere in support of Che Guevara and Evo Morales.

After 27 hours in the bus, and 6 movies... we returned to Lima, to stay in the wealthy Miraflores neighborhood-- what a contrast to the city we had just left--on the coastal cliffs of the Pacific, buying our food again in the Whole-foods esque Vivanda, and eating at the health-food Madre Natura.

We stayed only briefly in Lima, and then we headed north to Trujillo, a city of about 1 million people on the coast of Peru. We visited the Chan Chan ruins, which are from the pre-Incan Chimu people, who built their city between 850-1470 AD. The ruins, of adobe, have only recently (within the past 10-20 years) begun to be excavated and renovated by the Peruvian government! The ruins complex is vast, rising out of the desert coast. We also visited the small fishing town of Huanchaco, where residents still use the traditional reed boats for fishing.

Our true intention of heading north and to the coast was to get in some long-awaited beach time! We first headed to Mancora, arriving around 11 at night. While we were looking for a hostel, a drunken man tried to grab Wade´s backpack... luckily he was too drunk to be successful, and Wade easily fended him off, although it did shake me up a bit and remind us to be more careful at night! Also, it was hard for me to have to let go of some of the trust that I so easily give... Mancora is known for good surfing and parties, not exactly our scene, so the next morning we moved on!

We found a really lovely, peaceful beach at Punta Sal, a bit north of Mancora. We had some relaxing swims and walks on the beach, and great hammock time, until a large group of tourists arrived to have a pig roast, play volleyball, and drink a lot... and it was again time to move on!

We had to head back to Mancora to catch a combi north to Zorritos. The driver would head north through town, with the assistant yelling "Tumbes, Tumbes," (the eventual destination). At the north end of town, we would turn around, to repeat this process 4 or 5 times until the combi was full enough for us to continue on! If the manta is the representational object of the Andean culture, and the machete is the object of the jungle, the bucket is the object of choice along the coast, we saw heaps of people carrying them around. (I don´t know what was in them, I guess seafood?). Also along the coast, it is possible to buy ceviche from a cart (raw fished that is "cooked" by lime juice). It is a true testament to the strength of the locals stomachs that they can eat this after it has been out in 80-degree plus weather all day.

We stayed at the Tres Puntas eco-hostel just south of Zorritos--a funky looking place made of bamboo and recycled materials, with beer bottles as light covers in the bar and shells and mosaics in the bathrooms. We again had our own nearly deserted beach for walking and swimming, and even some decent body surfing! The hostel was deserted to the point that the restaurant didn´t even have food, so we delightedly cooked for ourselves!

We decided it was time to head north to Ecuador... and we were glad we choose a recommended bus company, as the border crossing from Aguas Verde to Huaquillas had been mentioned as the worst in all of South America! I think it´s because the Peruvian and Ecuadorian border offices are on the opposite sides of town, and many people get scammed by combis and taxi drivers who don´t inform them of the distance between points until they are asking for extra money. (We got on and off the bus at the appropriate times, got our exit and entrance stamps, and we on our merry way, hassle-free).

Our first impression of Ecuador was how green and lush it is! Also, there are so many banana plantations-- the first we´ve seen in such abundance! Almost always there is music playing in the bus, usually merengue or other lively dance music! It makes the bus ride quite fun! Another thing we´ve noticed is that it seems to be a requirement for every song we´ve heard in South America to mention at least once, the corazon, or heart. Wade bought some souvenir CD´s in Puerto Lopez, and it was amusing to see how many of the covers featured scantily-clad and toples women!

Another phenomenon unique to Ecuador is that boys, occasionally men, get on the bus and give speeches about the impoverished youth they are working with. They hand out incense, or candy, or Cd´s, and continue to speak. Then they ask for money for the items, collecting them back if you don´t want them.

Before we entered Guayaquil, we saw many processing plants for both coffee and cacao.
The bus station in Guayaquil was like a mall, complete with an American-style coffee shop! I was so excited to get coffee in a to-go cup (something so regular in the states, but that I haven´t done once in the past 3 1/2 months)... but we only had about 10 minutes to catch our bus to Jipijapa ( pronounced Hippie-Happa). The signs even had color-coated charts that indicated where the bus companies to different parts of the country are located. I slept through most of the ride, although Wade observed many people living in extreme poverty, houses on stilts, as we travelled through the sprawl of Guayaquil.

Our first 2 days in Ecuador, we tried 5 different kinds of fried bananas! We had fried breaded plantains on the bus, chifles (plantain chips) in the bus station, and patacones at a Colombian restaurant (a big, flat fried chip, something like you´d get a taco salad in). The next day we had maduros (fried plantains), and a different kind of patacones, with a layer of corn flour around the fried plantain. I found myself for only the second time of our trip wishing to be home again, this time missing the Boulderite healthy diet!

We spent 5 days in and around the fishing town of Puerto Lopez on the coast. Almost everyone we talked to asked us where we are from, even when the exchange was brief-- us asking a person one question to which they gave us an answer, and then asked us where we are from! We found the people in Puerto Lopez super friendly, probably the most outgoing of anywhere we´ve been yet. On our first night, as we stepped off a bus, a moto taxi driver stepped forward to offer information. He of course asked us where we are from, and from then on we saw him repeatedly around town. "Estados Unidos!" he´d always exclaim and wave!

In Puerto Lopez, we bought passes to the Machalilla National Park. Our first day we visited Los Frailes, one of three beautiful beaches that we reached on a hike through the coastal dry forest. Only 1% of this eco-system remains. It is rich with the scent of the palo santo trees, whose wood is used for incense, in addition to many beautiful flowers, butterflies, lizards... the trees of the dry forest lose their leaves in the winter, though the leaves were still there for us! We tried to hike around some rocks during high tide. We were treated to views of many crabs and tidal pools, but had to turn back to protect our backpacks and Wade´s camera! We water was warm and inviting, we could´ve stayed to swim all day, but we also wanted to see the Agua Blanca community of the Manteña people. Luckily we were able to catch a moto-taxi between the two sites, saving quite alot of hiking! The Manteña people have done an excellent job of creating a museum and loop tour of their land, with lots of homemade signs about the importance of taking care of the environment. Each of the 75 families has one person who works as a guide, thus spreading the work through the community. We again hiked in the dry coastal forest, and got to swim in the community´s sacred sulphur pool. We were surprised to see that they had a traditional sweat lodge identical to ones used by Native Americans up North... they use theirs only for solstice ceremonies, however. Luckily we found our friend the moto-taxi driver that evening, and shared a ride back to town with some other American travellers.

The next day we visited the Isla de la Plata, an island about 1.5 hours from shore by boat, known as "the poor man´s Galapagos." On the island we saw many pairs of blue footed boobies, an albatross, and many frigate birds circling overhead. Frigate birds are the ones shown in pictures of the male with the inflated red balloon-like pouch under his beak, though they only put on this display during mating time, which it wasn´t... We also got to go snorkeling above the coral reef... many fish and delightful underwater colors of anemones and such...

We spent one night visiting Alandaluz, which means "winged light," and is an eco-lodge. The buildings are made of bamboo, they use composting toilets in the cabins, and re-use the grey water. We rented a tent from our hostel, and camped almost on the beach... We were disappointed, however, that the organic gardens and land they are protecting were far off site. We had hoped for something more educational, but all we learned was from the signs hung up. We were at a resort for wealthy Ecuadorians on the long May 1 (Labor Day) holiday. We treated ourselves to Alandaluz cocktails (the local Aguardiente strong sugar liquor mixed with coconut milk and passion fruit juice--yum!), I also had seafood mixed with coconut milk served in a coconut shell, and Wade had veggies in peanut sauce served in a bamboo.

From Puerto Lopez we headed to the capital of Quito- a 12 hour bus journey from the coast back into the mountains. We arrived at 8pm, later than we had planned. We drank bottles of black tea with guarana and ginseng, trying to figure out if we could stay in Quito or should head on to Baños. We had planned to arrive earlier, somehow forgetting that the buses are always late. The ladies in the cafe where we ate warned us multiple times how dangerous the bus terminal is, and to watch our bags! We decided we didn´t really want to arrive in Baños n the middle of the night, and found a hotel in Quito. In the cab, we were happy to hear Andean music again, this from the Northern Ecuadorian town of Otavalo. Our driver told us the story of how how the "Ecuadorian" Incan Atahualpa defeated his brother the "Peruvian" Incan Huascar for control of the Incan Empire... though Atahualpa was killed by the Spanish not long after. (Our guidebook told us how the Ecuadorians still tell story this with pride, and I was surprised at how true that was!).

In the morning, we were delighted to see how lush and green the hills around Quito are, giving it the prize for the nicest big city we´ve seen on our trip! We ordered 2 cafes con leche... and received 2 cups of milk. When I tried to explain to the waiter that we wanted big coffees with only a little bit of milk, he brought us a giant canister of Nescafe to mix into the milk... I forgot the advice of the guidebook, to always wait and ask for milk after mixing the coffee... In Ecuador a "coffee" is usually a cup of hot water with Nescafe, and a cafe con leche is a cup of hot milk with Nescafe... we´ve had varying results asking for cafe con leche, my favorite is when they give you a pot of real coffee and a pot of milk to mix yourself...

We finally arrived Baños after our 3.5 hour "direct" bus ride turned into a 5-hour, 2 bus journey... we got to observe Tungurahua volcano billowing smoke, which I believe is a rare sighting, as we have found the top often shrouded in clouds. As we hiked up one road that seemed a potential lava flow route, Wade saw a sign asking "are we living the last of days?", in addition many of the houses on that road are for sale (along with many others in town-- the volcano has been active since 1999, in that year the town was acutally evacuated).

We have been taking daily soaks in the "Virgin´s Hair" hot springs (under a waterfall of the same name), and also visited another hot springs just outside of town. We took a hike past the Mirador (lookout point) of the Virgin of the Sacred Waters to a small village called Runtun. After a first quite steep section, definitely re-adjusting to altitude, we had spectacular views! We met an old man who told us he´s about 73, and he recounted to us some of the recent tragedies such as the cyclone in Burma and the flooding in Quito. "Life is sad," he told us. He, too, had a song about the corazon, stopping walking to yell down the side of the mountain to someone named Ricardo about his cows... when we asked if we should come back the way we came, he told us no, the trail is muy peligroso, very dangerous, and that´s a sad trail because there are no people on it.

We caught a cab ride down to town and were dropped off in front of a sugar cane juice stand. We were just about to pay when two men from nearby Ambato started talking to us. Their names were Byron and Fabian, and they introduced us to the interesting combination of aguardiente and sugar cane juice. They kept refilling our glasses, telling us they´d like us to come and visit for a free dinner. Byron sells meat, and Fabian has a chicken roasting business. Since we knew we´d never make it, we didn´t bother to explain the whole vegetarian thing... Many hours later, we saw them stumbling through the streets, saying they were taking a bus home, which I hope is true!

We also visited The Church of Our Lady of the Holy Water (all of the water in the hot springs is considered agaua santa, holy water). The Virgin has performed many miracles, protecting the town several times from the volcano´s eruptions, and also helping many people in need. It is amazing how the volcano provides life and death for these people, rich soil and healing waters, and the threat of destruction at the same time.  They are living in the shadow of the volcano, holding the shadowy balance between life and death.

In Baños, and Ecuador as a whole, we have seen possibly the most Americans of our trip. It is interesting, because they use American money and electric currents here, and it is indeed weird to be spending dollars again--somehow everything seems more expensive this way! In Baños we have eaten a "Hindu special" (chickpea curry) and Nasi Gurang (the national dish of Indonesia). One thing we have been delighted by in Ecuador is that there is hot sauce everywhere, often homemade, making this the spiciest food of our trip!

On May 4 the Santa Cruz province of Bolivia had an election in which 80% of the votes were in support of autonomy for province. While up to 40% of voters abstained, there is a growing class of people who disagree with Evo Morales. The Eastern part of Bolivia holds much of the natural resources, and thus wealth, of Bolivia. Bolivia is already the 3rd poorest country in the Americas, and would suffer greatly if the wealthy part of the country separates. We are interested to follow the news in Bolivia, and were glad to leave before the election, due to the looming potential for uprising and instability.

Tomorrow we head to Loja, and then to Vilcabamba, in the Southern Sierra of Ecuador...

After leaving our month of rural life in a children´s home, we returned to the very cosmopolitan and tourist-oriented  Cusco, where we enjoyed passion-fruit pisco sours and chocolate-mint daiquiris in a bar called ¨Fire and Ice,¨ which would be at home in New York City.  Very modern, artsy decor with bathrooms decorated to match heaven and hell, and glass-covered bathtubs for tables.  We also got to attend the theatrical production of Kusikay theater company´s ¨Chaska-una historia andina.¨¨ The multi-media production included dance, aerial dance, music, and told the story of some of the peoples of Peru, both pre- and post- Incan. One of the performers, a colorful mystical bird, actually was one of the first theater directors at Casa de Milagros, and we met him and his family when they were visiting during Easter weekend.  How could we not go, knowing one of the performers?  We were enchanted, and delighted as well for the English translations projected on a screen!

From Cusco, it was time to move on, first to Puno, across the border into Bolivia and on to Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca.  Muy tranquilo, a touristy little beach town with Bolivian prices (much cheaper than Peru!) From Copacabana, it is a short boat ride to Isla del Sol, which according to various legends is the birthplace of the first Incans, Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo, the supreme Incan deity Wiracocha, and even the sun itself!  We walked across a high ridge across the island, exposed to the intense sun and wind, exploring the Incan ruins and the sacred rock from which the lake takes its name (Titi Khar´ka-Rock of the Puma). We found a beautiful beach for our third (!) dip in Lake Titicaca... We stayed in a sweet little hostel just outside of the island´s biggest town, with an amazing view of the sunset over the lake.

Back in Copacabana, we spent a morning watching the bizarre spectacle of the car blessings that take place in the plaza outside the Cathedral.  The black Virgen de Candelaria (whose statue appears as porcelain white as the virgin of the candelaria in Puno) is known for her miracles, and her blessings of vehicles has become the most popular form of car insurance in Bolivia!  We saw brand new cars from Peru and La Paz in the plaza.  All are doused with pure alcohol on the tires and engine, as well as car body, fireworks are lit underneath, and they are decorated with beautiful wreaths of flowers.  Afterwards, the entire family sits around and drinks any of the leftover blessing alcohol and beers.  Several times riding combis in Bolivia we have seen vehicles with banners stating they have the blessings of the Virgin of the Candelaria.

From Copacabana, it is a 3-4 hour bus ride to La Paz.  As we entered town, we dropped people off in various locations around El Alto, the mostly-indigenous city which has grown on the upper outskirts of town-- the city with the highest Aymara population in the world.  Luckily we had been spending time at altitude, as the 14,000 foot elevation was not too much of a shock to our systems!  We set out to find a hostel, after the advertised "Adventure Brew Hostel" (attached to the world´s highest micro-brewey) was full.  We found the rooms in the Happy Days hostel acceptable, if a bit pricey.  We asked the woman at the desk if there was hot water, and she turned on the electric shower to show us how well it worked.  Unfortunately, the fire that sparked out of the shower head detracted from our impression of the hostel!  We left, doubled over in laughter... and we were reassured the next day as we walked by and saw the doors open for business that the fire had not spread.  For us, the food in La Paz is one of the greatest attractions-- there are street vendors everywhere selling bread, juices, empanadas.  The ¨comedors¨¨ sell cheap coffees and sandwiches.  We also sampled Indian and Middle Eastern food. While the curry was great, the chai left something to be desired... 

 We left La Paz for Coroico, a sleepy little town in the cloud forest.  When we bought our bus tickets, the woman told us the bus was about to leave, but we ended up spending almost 2 hours sitting in the bus waiting for it to leave. (Almost doubling the actual 2.5 hour ride!) Once we got started, we stopped to pick up several large (50 kg) bags of concrete, to transport them to another location on the way out of town!   We have marvelled at the amount of food people buy before and during bus rides, in Peru as well--even for such a short ride!  We were excited to find a woman selling outside the bus window plato paceño, a ¨typical¨ vegetarian La Paz dish--that we couldn´t find in any of the city´s markets!  It consists of hava beans, small potatoes of 2 varieties, the popular large-kernel choclo corn, and a piece of fried Andean cheese. What unbelievable cloud forest! The winding, mountainous road from La Paz to Coroico is breath-takingly scenic.  The ¨world´´s most dangerous road¨¨ (so called due to the number of fatalities, due to the narrow-ness of the road--one bus had to pull onto the cliff to let the other pass, and the number of land-slides) luckily has been replaced with a newer, safer road quite recently.  Now you can mountain-bike down the old road for a souvenir T-shirt that you survived the most dangerous road... we opted for the bus, though Wade was interested in the bike ride.  

Coroico is very much of the cloud forest--- all or part of 3 of the 4 days we spent there it was shrouded in clouds and rain.  We were surprised that a town with a reputation for attracting tourists has little infrastructure for tourism--not even a single tour agency in town, though a number of agencies start a boat ride to the jungle in Coroico!  We ended up having to call La Paz to book our trip from Coroico to the jungle!

We left Coroico at 9 in the morning for a bouncy jeep ride along the side of a cliff.  "This road is very dangerous, you must drive on the left side so you know how close to the edge your tires are," explained our driver, as we listened to a mix of ´70´s and 80´s American music... At one point a group of people called us to stop, as they looked down at the bottom.  A truck had slid off the road in the rain the night before, you could see where the earth gave way and the tire tracks went down... there were footprints outside the truck, apparently the driver had survived.  Yet another reminder of the perils of travelling this road, though I have surrendered myself into the trust that many people drive safely on these roads often...  

We stopped in a town named Caranavi for a lunch that ended with fried plantains, and Wade bought 10 avocados for around $1... We drove several more hours to Guanay, where we met up with our boat for the ride down the Kaka and Beni Rivers.  We stopped briefly in a town filled with shack tiendas (stores), one offering dynamite... and headed down the river.  Just before we left, we saw a man float by on what looked like an inflated sack, with a paddle.  He waved, as obviously this was his choice and not the result of capsizing... We saw many people searching for gold along the rivers, living in makeshift shacks of bamboo and tarps.  We camped on a beach along the river, with a bonfire made of driftwood at night.  

The second day on the boat took us to a small indigenous community named El Carmen, which consisted of 5 families. We had an introductory walk in the jungle, and got to try the ever-popular tourist activity of piranha fishing, which our indigenous guide succeeded at, and the rest of us faltered.  I abstained, catch-and-release fishing to me seems un-necessarily harmful to the animals. One little girl, around age 7, was so curious about me and Celeste, the other woman on the trip... touching our hair, our jewelry, enchanted by Celeste´s dreadlocks.  We tourists slipped as much food as we could to the community´s dogs, the skinniest by far we´ve seen.  Hiking at night we learned that flashlights catch the eyes of spiders, and were amazed at how many we could see!  The third day of our trip we stopped for a hike in the Madidi National Park, which was only set aside for preservation in 1995!  We were introduced to a ¨walking tree¨¨, which has its roots above ground, and can move as much as 12cm in a year to seek out the elusive jungle light. We also had our first opportunity to taste cacao fruit--orange on the outside, white and juicy on the inside around the cacao seeds.  I was amazed by the size of the bare feet of the man who cut the fruits down from us... he truly looked at home in the jungle.  (We also marvelled at the feet of the indigenous people in the Altiplano, who wear sandals year-round, their feet attaining the rough appearance of hooves...)    

Rurrenebaque, or Rurre, as it is called for short... the Spanish-ized version of an indigenous Tacana word meaning ravine of the ducks... filled with the roar of motorcycles through town, 90 degrees even at night. We stopped our second night at a touristy pizza restaurant for icy daiquiris and were treated to a rousing Guns and Roses´ Welcome to the Jungle.  Apparently a book in Israel has made Rurre a popular destination for Israeli tourists, and signs in Hebrew outnumber those in English.

We signed up for a 3-day jungle trip through an organization called Mashaquipe, which is run by a community of Tacana people.  After finding themselves exploited by the growing jungle tourism industry, they created their own lodge down the river from their community, and over 30 members of their community--including women--now act as guides.  Our brief stop in the community included an introduction to several new fruits, and Wade got to help our guide Eber push around the giant wooden lever that ran 3 wooden barrels to crush sugar cane for making juice!  Muy rico!  (rich and delicious!)  Our guide Eber was excellent, for the first day Wade and I were the only tourists with him, on the second and third days we were joined by an Australian tourist who guides trips in the rain forest in Northern Australia! Eber introduced us to the medicinal vine of cat´s claw (which is an abundant source of clean water), we saw jaguar scat, heard wild pigs (chancos) in a mud hole.We took a night hike on which we heard numerous frogs, saw fireflies and a small (3-foot) alligator.  We visited a cliff site up river which is home to macaws and parrots, and we watched them flying back around sunset. Eber opened a small coconut to show us the white worms named Tuhey Tuhey, which are good for curing coughs... Do you want to try it, it tastes like coconut?  I did, and it did!  The sounds at night were amazing, the night is alive with insects, and early in the morning, far off howler monkeys--which have different names in each local, so you could ask someone if they have howler monkeys, and they´d say no, as they have their own name for them. The scientific community recently discovered a ¨new¨¨ species of monkey in the park, which of course was always known to the indigenous residents. The lodge is home to a semi-pet spider monkey. A member of the family bought her in a market, so she could have a more natural life.  She is around age 3, and they imagine when she´s ready to mate she´´ll find her own tribe.  All limbs and tail, she is a joy to watch, and I got to feed her a banana.. When we asked Eber about the possibility of encountering wildlife, which can be hard to spot in the jungle---especially in the more-touristed areas, as there is a history of tourists hunting until the park was created--- he told us ¨¨todo es possible, nada es seguro¨´ (everything is possible, nothing is certain). When we booked the tour, the agent told us we´d be eating ¨¨typical food,¨¨ which like on the boat meant lots of pasta and fried bread--though we did also get amazing, real local coffee and hot chocolate--unfortunately we arrived after mango and avocado seasons! A real accomplishment for Wade and me, this marked our first tour all in Spanish!  The jungle was not as hot, rainy, or mosquito-infested as I had feared...

We spent another 3 days on a pampas tour.  I believe the pampas translates roughly into ¨grasslands,¨ but just after the end of the rainy season it was more like a swamp.  We spent much time cruising through the pampas in a boat, observing many birds, monkeys, and alligators, and even glimpsing a capybara, the world´s largest rodent!  A highlight of the trip was the afternoon we watched from the deck of the lodge an alligator eating a black mambo snake, one of the most poisonous in the world!   The other highlight, by far, was swimming with the pink dolphins, one of only 3 or so freshwater dolphin species left in the world!  We also got to head out on an anaconda hunt, wading in water up past our knees while the mosquitos attacked.  Apparently it´s much easier to spot the anacondas in the dry season, and our guide turned back before we got much deeper, for risk of approaching an alligator nest.  The alligators in the pampas are not aggresive to humans, except when they feel their nests are endangered.  We got to partake of the popular tourist attraction of piranha fishing yet again, and the cook fried up our groups´ catch for dinner. We watched the sun set from a bar down the boardwalk from our lodge, where we also spent siesta in hammocks. An interesting discussion around communist politics evolved between Tony, who lived in the Chek republic under communist rule, and Ergun, who is a Turkish fan of Chief Seattle, Che Guevara, Evo Morales, and Hugo Chavez. On our way to and from the pampas we discovered the elusive young coconuts, our first in South America save one pricey one on the streets of La Paz.

From Rurre back to Coroico we embarked upon a crazy long bus ride-- 16 hours over windy dirt roads that either blew dust into the windows or were mud trenches during the rain.  At our lunch stop, we purchasd coca leaves from a group of men who wanted to discuss politics, they oppose George Bush, who used to consume cocaine, yet wants to prohibit coca.  Coca, in its natural form, has been found in the remains of many ancient civilizations.  It has strong spiritual and cultural traditions, and enables people to work through difficult conditions with little rest, food or water!  It enabled us to continue our hike at Machu Picchu after we had run out of food and water. The mines of Potosi would probably not still be running, were it not for the coca that fuels the miners... Coca tea is given to visitors in the Andes, to help transition to the altitude.

We enjoyed a couple of beers for sunset, and I was able to read a bit... though sleep was not easy.  We stopped in a small town for dinner--unless I am mistaken its name is ¨52¨--where we found the most amazing dark chocolate wrapped in plain almost leaf-like paper. We arrived at the traffic post outside Coroico at 4am, not finding the fleets of taxis that the bus ticket salesman had promised, nor the cheap hostels our book recommended.  We did finally get one very overpriced taxi to town, where we futilely knocked on hostel doors. There was a sweet older woman selling empanadas, who recommended one hostel after another until finally at 6am we landed...

In Coroico we had a sweet little cabin at the Sol y Luna hostel where we had stayed before... definitely our favorite romantic, peaceful retreat of the whole trip!  The grounds have 2 pools, amazing views, trails above the hostel, a yoga space, a propane-heated hot tub ¨tina caliente¨, and gardens lush with flowers, banana trees, citrus trees... We were able to cook our own food for the first time in over a month!  Our second day, we took a beautiful hike to 3 waterfalls outside of town!  On the way back, we took the road, and finally caught a combi to town, again with the blessings of the Virgen of the Candelaria...

Back in La Paz, we struggled through a sleepless night with the return of city traffic and that 14,000 foot altitude... luckily we know where to get cheap coffee in this town!  Our last day, completing all of our touristic tasks... walking almost a mile in our quest for vegetarian salteñas--pastries stuffed with a juicy stew, which traditionally come with meat, chicken (which is not considered ¨meat¨), or both, visiting the museo de coca,  which is one of the few places you can buy organic coca leaves, purchasing some gifts and souvenirs at the low Bolivia prices in the artesian market and the witches´ market (where you can buy all kinds of statues and potions, and even llama fetuses in various stages of development, for good luck in your home--try to get that through customs!) We also had to enjoy once more our favorite Bolivian treats: a 32-ounce glass of  "vitaminico" juice at the juice stands lining the street, humitas al horno (sweet tamales with anise and a touch of cheese baked in the oven for a crispy top layer), and El Inca beer, which is dark and the label pronounces its health benefits (the juice ladies all mix it into shakes with raw eggs).

After 3 months of travel, our journey returns us to the coast of Peru and Lima, its largest city!

The nature of reality in the Sacred Valley is impermanent and shifting, just as the clouds and mist rise and fall, the rains come and go, and the waterfall behind the house shifts in size based upon the rains.

We heard there would be another paro, or strike, after our return to the casa. Maybe Monday, maybe Wednesday, the first week of school, we heard. We watched and waited, and no paro! We asked for directions to a waterfall above the retreat center in Harin, and were told by 6 different people anywhere from 1/2 hour to 1 1/2 hours, or maybe the waterfall didn’t exist. When walking to town in the evening, there was often a magical moment when the greeting from one of our neighbors would shift from ¨buenas tardes,¨ to ¨buenas noches,¨ and we would know that it was night. Magically, this moment seemed to coincide with the appearance of the lights in Lamay, a 20-minute walk from home.

Writing about my experience of volunteering for a month at the Casa de Milagros (House of Miracles) children’s home feels like attaching permanence to reality, pinning it down to a defined sense of explanation, and I have struggled this past month to put into words my experiences.

Casa de Milagros is nestled in the Sacred Valley, near the Urubamba River which was sacred to the Incan people, as they believed it reflected the Milky Way. (Unfortunately, the Urubamba is now too murky and polluted for drinking or even swimming.) The sides of the valley are comprised of phenomenal tall, green mountains, which are known as Apus, or protector spirits. Wade and I shared a sweet little 2-story cottage, which had a skylight through which we could see the waterfall high above!

Our work consisted mostly of helping in the gardens--weeding, harvesting and occasionally planting (the lush valley has a year-round growing season). We also got to help out in the kitchen, usually peeling potatoes and shelling hava beans. One of our favorite games was sharing new words with the cooks-- they would teach us a word in Quechua, we would teach them the word in English. We would all laugh, and immediately forget what we had just learned. We brought along a Quechua phrasebook, and did manage to learn the traditional greeting.  We didn´t learn as much Quechua as we had hoped, one new language (Spanish) turned out to be enough...

There are 32 children at Casa de Milagros. The youngest is Sol, age 1, with a smile as bright as her name. She is learning to walk, and the older kids all love to help her learn! The oldest is Roberto, who at age 18 goes to school in Cusco during the week, and returns to visit on the weekends. All of them have a past of neglect, abuse, and trauma, with a story that could break your heart. but you wouldn’t know from looking at them. They are full of joy and fun. The oldest boys play soccer and guitar, the older girls knit. The younger boys love trucks and bugs and the little girls dolls and dressing up. All help to cook and clean. The children returned to school one week after our volunteering started. Our favorite time of the day became homework time, when all the kids would sit at the long table in the kitchen, with the older kids and the moms helping the younger ones.

Luz Marina, the oldest girl, passed away at age 16, a month before our arrival due to complications from lupus. Apparently, only one doctor in all of Cusco even knows what lupus is! Life in the Valley is so close to death, and the people in the neighboring pueblos depend on Kia, Alan, and Marie when a member of their family is sick, or in emergency situation such as the time a landslide covered the neighboring people. Alan told us, ¨There’s no 911 here.¨
One of the other volunteers arrived the night of Luz Marina´s passing, and joined the funeral procession across the bridge to town. We witnessed the lingering tiredness and sadness in Kia and Alan, and in a few of the older girls who had been closest to Luz Marina.    What grief can compare to the loss of a child?

One of my greatest teachers was Rut, who spent 24 hours a day, five days a week, with Urpi, a girl with autism and mental retardation. Rut was so patient and kind with Urpi. Rut also is an amazing painter and crochet-er, she uses the wool from the alpacas and llamas that her family raiser. She talks often of the importance of patience, and it shows in her handicrafts, and time with Urpi. Rut has a teaching degree, but wants to get a degree for working with special needs children as well. One of my happiest moments was when Urpi lifted her arms up to me for a hug, and when I lifted her up, she wrapped her arms around my neck so tightly and laughed and laughed.

At one point in our stay, there were 8 volunteers (!), and it was hard not to become lost in our world of English and familiar culture. The number dropped to 5, then 4. We visited the local Choclo festival in Huayabamba, with ears of corn, popcorn, corn beer... We had several movie nights, and made sure we all had access to vegetarian food options. One day we rode the combi to drop the kids off at school, and continued on to help with the market day. On the ride, one lady handed us our daily milk supply, in a 2-liter bottle. Another woman passed in a big bag of corn, which we gave to the avocado and plantain lady at the market. The moms walked back and forth in the market, negotiating for kilos of fruit, dried goods, and meat. Perhaps the meat counter was the most interesting, a part of the market I usually avoid. Axes, saws in use, a lady leaning against a slab of meat while a little boy kept poking another with his finger. The piece of meat which seemed to be the anus, and was later gone, perhaps bought up as a delicacy?

One highlight of our volunteering was several days spent at the Hanaq Pacha retreat center. Kia created this center for visiting yoga groups, as a way to raise money for the kids, and also to create jobs for them when they grow up. It is amazingly tranquil, underneath a waterfall in its own little valley off the sacred valley. We practiced yoga, worked in the garden, did some work towards a new water fixture off the patio, and ate many fresh organic salads.

Ana Sonqo, who we met at the start of our Sacred Valley journey, is starting a center for women above Kia´s property. Called Quilla Uno, moon water, it is named after the waterfall above the land. The town below, Harin, has a huge problem with alcohol, and Ana and her partner Luna seek to help the women of the town. Their first plan is to build a community bread oven, as the women all currently head to Calca to buy white bread. They would use traditional grains like quinua, coca, and amaranth to bake bread for the community. Ana told us about the Apus of this little valley, that the divine feminine and masculine are embracing this place. We camped on her land for the fall equinox, creating a ritual under the near-full moon in this sacred place.

In our last week at Casa de Milagros, we were treated to a hike to the waterfall above by Seth, who is 8. We didn’t make it all the way, but he pointed out which fruits to eat or avoid, a baby bird in its nest, an old Inca wall, and a hole that supposedly a campesino fell into, and died, after yelling for days about the Inca gold he found. (Several people we talked to wanted us to return to look for the Inca gold with them, in the valley...). On Good Friday, we partook of a feast of 12 traditional dishes, 6 sweet and 6 salty, that the kids had helped to prepare. On Saturday, we had the kids decorate Easter eggs with markers, paint, and glitter. (An extensive search in 2 local towns found neither plastic eggs nor food coloring, but no one minded). Easter Sunday, we set up an Easter egg hunt. We were down to 50 eggs from the original 75, but the kids kept the hunt going and going by re-hiding the eggs! I dressed as the Easter bunny, and another woman painted my face (photos to come). Of course, everyone was delighted with the chocolates we had bought as well... that day for lunch we had pizzas the older boys cooked in a barrel oven, and then were invited to attend the end-of-soccer-season party at the field in the neighboring pueblo. There was chicha and beer, and a bonfire. I danced several times with a man and once with him and his wife, and then with a group of small girls...It was the dance party I had been hoping for, an unexpected delightful parting gift...

 We had a slight brush against hardship, that at times the phones or internet were down, for several days there was no gas for the stove and all the cooking was done on the fire (which is used almost daily, when big pots of soup are made), for about a week we had to wade through water up to our knees to get to town. We also confronted our own expectations, weaknesses, doubts, and fears about our experience. We learned so much about running an organization abroad, a dream of ours-- how hard it really is to subsistence farm, that it is essential to be fluent in the language of the country where you are working, how hard it is to get around the legalities, and the difficulties of hiring local people.

I feel my heart has grown wider and more open, for having known these children, this family. I am so glad to have gotten to know them, to see their shining lights, and will carry them all with me. The Casa, as we grew to call it, is short on funds, as so many other honorable non-profits, and I carry also with me the hope to connect them with additional funding.

On our return to Casa de Milagros, we did indeed encounter the paro, or stop!  It was a 2-day strike, again protesting the privitization of Macchu Pichu and other heritage sites.  When leaving the town of Ollantaytambo, it seemed we saw less tour buses than usual, but there was a combi van right in the plaza de armas heading to Urubamba.  There were rocks in the road, and at one point some kids yelled from their self-constructed dirt road block "señor, huelga!" (strike, mister!)  The bus station in Urubamba was obviously closed, but our driver said we could catch a combi to Calca on the other side of town.

We walked to the other side of town, the one traffic light in all of Urubamba, and maybe all of the Sacred Valley, where other people were waiting.  No combis were heading this way.  Most people seemed to be heading to Cusco, which is down a different road than Calca.  The taxi drivers were offering to take us to Calca for 50 soles, about $17.... finally we talked one down to 40 soles, then he talked to some other drivers, and said no, the road was blocked, he could¨not go to Calca.  We were wondering what to do, it was about 20k to Calca.. and then Casa de Milagros is still further out from Calca. After our Macchu Pichu adventure, we were ready for the adventure to end.  But, here we had another aventura... (A new adventure every day, has become our motto!)

 We finally found a taxi who offered to go for 20 soles, and were glad when a police officer got in the taxi as well. It offered a sense of security.... well, we made it maybe 1/3 of the way when we hit a giant roadblock of big rocks.  Get out and walk, follow the police officer, there will be cars on the other side, said the driver.  And he asked for 10 soles... we gave him about 7.

The police officer was walking fast, so we hurried to keep up.  There were lots of road blocks along the route, many small.  In one small town, the people had placed broken glass, giant tree stumps, even carts across the road.  An angry mob surrounded a truck that apparently had tried to pass a roadblock.  We hurried past, we only saw one other gringo on this walk, and yes, we were at times fearful of what could happen.

It was beautiful, too, seeing the towns and people and their animals, the clouds gathering above.  And inspiring... to think that the people united can create change!

It started to rain, and was getting dark, we were passing through small towns without hostels, not thinking about what was next except getting home!  Then the police officer passed us in a moto-taxi, get in!  He climbed up front with the driver, I sat in back with 3 kids, and Wade sat on the very back luggage rack!  They all got out in Calca, and we headed to Lamay.  There were still road blocks, and the driver hit one, getting a flat. He tried to drive on, but we soon got out to walk, in the cold and dark rainy night, to Lamay, across the bridge, and along the dirt road, where we finally made it to Casa de Milagros!  Aventura, indeed!

The kids and caretakers had all gone away to some hot springs, and the strike had prevented their return.  Kia was there, however, and we caught up on news and dinner, then to sleep!

The next day was our introduction to handwashing all of our dirty clothes, and I got to help in the kitchen, making a salad-- our first in Peru, hooray, all organic veggies from the garden.
The kids made it back late that night, they had had to drive through the roadblocks, and angry people slashed one of the cars´ tires!

Our next day we got to pick cauliflower leaves for the horses and weed the gardens.  We will be working alot in the gardens.  We also got to meet some sapos, toads, thanks to 2 little boys and were helped by a little boy and girl with the weeding.  What kind of  flower is that?  "A yellow one..."

We heard the strike closed the airport in Cusco and also the train to Macchu Pichu.  It may resume on Monday, if the government does not listen to the people.  We came to town today... It turns out the "big" town, Calca, is more like 5k from the orphanage... where we can visit the market and the internet. Lamay, is a 2k walk, but also has bus service to Calca.  We might also get to use the computers at Casa de Milagros, though the phones have been down awhile.... we are glad to be out of the strike area, but curious to learn what will happen!

From Pisac, we headed to Casa de Milagros, where we will be volunteering for a month. The orphanage is home to 32 children, from one infant to the oldest boy who is 16, all but one are children from the campo, the countryside. The orphanage is across the river from a small town in the Sacred Valley, behind it the wall of the mountains rise, green and brown, with a trail to some spectacular ruins. The grounds have an organic farm, chickens, ducks, horses, cats, and dogs. It is beautiful and peaceful there. We met a few of the children on the first night, but then had to prepare for one more journey...

We had heard talk of an impending strike, but the morning of our departure, we could see buses travelling down the valley, the strike wasn´t happening. Our first stop was the small town of Ollantaytambo... the traditional granary town of the Incan people... the town is actually designed like an ear of corn and supposedly the best corn in Peru is here! The ruins above town are spectacular, with some amazing water works.

Our group for Macchu Pichu was going to meet for dinner in Ollantaytambo, and our task was to find the Kusicollar Hospedaje and Cafe Mistico. We found Kusicollar Hospedaje, Mystic House Cafe, and Cafe Kusicollar... none of them the right place! We hadn´t expected the adventure to begin so early... after asking many people for directions, and wandering through the Old Inca part of town (with houses that have been inhabited since Incan times and canals that run down one side of the streets), we finally found the cafe! Only, the owner didn´t know our group was coming... she called Pepe, our trip leader, and got it all worked out... we arrived at 6:20, as he had told us to... knowing they would be late, and waiting as expected...

Our group of 18 (we had expected 12, at most) was quite international, with 2 Canadians, 5 Argentinians, 4 Chileans, 1 Bulgarian who lives in San Francisco, 1 Texan, 1 Japanese woman who has been living in Peru 6 months, 1 Britton, and our Peruvian guide... almost everyone spoke English, and we had many conversations in English and Spanish both...

Our Macchu Pichu trek was great, although a bit unorganized in seemingly typical Peruvian fashion... Our first day we started hiking from Santa Maria, a town in the high jungle. We stopped at an organic papaya and coffee farm for breakfast, and also had home-made honey-yum! We hiked through banana, papaya, coffee, avocado trees, and past coca plants... the mangos were the only fruits ripe for eating, just at the end of mango season. We spent the night at some hot springs which were only a little bit developped (there was a tienda to buy beer and snacks, and bathrooms). It poured rain all night, and one tent was missing a rain fly (luckily not ours!) The next day, we spent a lot of time over breakfast (avocados and bread, all 4 mornings), and got dropped off at the hydroelectric plant. From there, it was about a 2 hour walk to our hostel, walking all the time along the railroad tracks. (which are the local trail, we saw lots of locals and tourists both walking along them). The hostel is right off the Rio Urubamba, with lush grounds. Just across the tracks from the hostel was a huge, amazing waterfall, which was so big it made its own wind and drenched us in mist!

On Tuesday morning, we awoke around 5... the plan was to start walking early, but our group of 18 of course took awhile to get ready... after 1.5 hours walk we were at Macchu Pichu... it was beautiful, with mist blowing across and every few minutes parts would disappear and re-appear, making it always changing and adding to the mystical allure. Before entering Macchu Pichu, one member of our group led us all in a yoga session, which the staff watched with amusement, and the guards photographed...

We visited a bridge the Incans had built out of stone and wood along a ridge, the trail disappeared quickly along a cliff with a sheer face... the main ruins were quickly filling with tourists, so we headed up Waynu Pichu, the mountain behind the ruins. From the top, you get a perfect view of the ruins, which are laid out in the shape of a condor! From Huayna Pichu, we climbed down to the Temple of the Moon and the Grand Cavern. The trail was quite steep, with ladders down in places... The Temple of the Moon was my favorite part, a deep cave filled with white stone blocks and structures, I sat on one stone cut like a bench or altar and could feel all of the moonlight it has absorbed over the years, feeling the power of the energy...

The other ruins were impressive, with stones set up for astronomy and to reflect the sun´s light at the solstice in specific patterns... there was more than we could possibly see in one day. We might go back to visit again... Kia, who runs Casa de Milagros, recommended we visit with her friend, who is a shaman, and can explain the meaning of it all to us... We also were busy climbing and exploring the whole time, and didn´t get much of a chance to just sit and absorb the energy...

On the walk to Macchu Pichu, two of the dogs from our hostel accompanied us all the way to the front gate... at which point a guard shooed them away. Upon our return, 9 hours later, we saw the little dog had waited for us, somehow knew Wade and I were the last of our group to leave, and escorted us all the way back!  The hostel owner told us that her dogs like spending time with the tourists passing through...

It took almost a day to return... starting with a walk along the tracks from the hostel to the hydroelectric plant, where we caught a van to the town of Santa Theresa, then another van to Santa Maria... we had to get out and walk across a part of the road that had been covered by a landslide that was still sliding to catch another van on the other side of the slide, and a third van to Ollantaytambo... Today we will return to Casa de Milagros, though we have again heard there is a strike and it might be hard to find a bus... once we are back, it is a 2k walk to town for email, and supplies... we are looking forward to settling into the tranquilo lifestyle and making connections with children and the land this next month!

We left Cusco on a local bus, to head up the hills out of town, and drop down into the Sacred Valley.  The tall mountains are extremely lush and green, even though this rainy season is unusually dry... as the weather is changing in Lima, Puno, Denmark, we learn in many conversations.

Pisac is a small town known for its market.  Apparently, the Pisac market is the second-most visited tourist attraction in Peru!  We are so thankful we are visiting during the low season!  The market fills the Plaza de Armas, and spreads out into the surrounding streets.  We find one of the traditional ovens in which people bake empañadas, and also a chicheria on the outskirts of town.  The man of the family puts Wade next to him in a seat of honor, and proceeds to explain the process of making chicha.  We wish our Spanish was good enough to understand... We toast often, ¨¨salud¨¨ - health- and also teach the family ´cheers´´.

Yesterday we hiked to the ruins above Pisac, about a two hour hike passing an amazing waterfall, one of those days that starts cool, then is hot and sunny, later cool and raining, then hot... The ruins are vast, and amazing, with many parts that were residential, ceremonial, military, agricultural... there are still stone baths with running water that was channeled from above, and somehow the Incans made a tunnel through the mountain. 

We caught a cab down the mountain, and learned Peru was playing Argentina in a soccer tournament.  We caught part of the game, and were offered a ¨¨typical Peruvian drink¨¨, which seems to have been an alcohol made of sugar mixed with orange soda.  ¨¨it´s totaly natural¨¨ we are told, which is what the man told us also the other night about the chicha...

Today we had the privilige of meeting Ana, a friend of a friend who is Peruvian and has lived in the Sacred Valley 20 years. She and her husband set up the first hostal in the valley, and helped cut through the jungle to make the popular for tourists Inca Trail.  Sometimes she regrets this. That is how it is here, she says, the government has no money for conservation and the people do not think about the earth.  The eucalyptus trees have been imported, they are ubiquitous, and cause erosion.  She has run campaigns to save the ancient pisonay tree in Pisac´s square, and now is creating a healing center for women, where she and her partners will also work to help her local community´s alcoholics.  We have to work together, she says.  Ana, too, knows Kia, she used to teach English to the children at the orphanage.  We will soon know Kia as well... our next journey is to Casa de Milagros, a short bus and taxi trip away!

On our bus trip from Puno to Cusco, through the country-side of terraced fields, flocks of sheep and llamas, we also saw many signs of solidarity painted on the sides of houses and walls... socialismo, Che Guevara, the rainbow Cusco flag, a proud Incan figure, repeated over and again.

We arrived in Cusco to a strike.  The government wants to privitize Machu Picchu, and the other Incan ruins in the Sacred Valley that are popular for tourists.  In the morning, there had been a big march in the street, and many stores were closed.  The taxis were not running, though we did get a ride for double the price, the cab driver risking getting his windshield pelted with rocks for our $1.75 fare...

The strike, though a hot topic of conversation, didn´t do much to ebb the flow and hum of tourism in this, the former Incan capital city, where it is hard to walk 5 steps without an offer of a sweater, a massage, a trek to Machu Picchu.  Where it is possible to have any number of sacred medicine journeys, with people who may or may not be trained shamans.  Where little boys who call themselves Pablo Picasso try to sell you postcards they say they painted...

This city is beautiful, as well, with numerous cathedrals where sometimes you can see the Incan walls poking through, the bones upon which the Spanish built their empire.  Not far from town are numerous Incan ruins, the closest, Saqsaywaman, a site where Pizzaro´s troops slaughtered a number of Incans in battle. 

The ruins are enormous, a mere fraction of their initial size--with their proximity to the city, many giant stones were removed during colonial times.  This ceremonial site became a fortress out of need.  The site is still living, though, as women in traditional dress cross the paths on the way home to the hills above town, and cows, sheep, llamas, and crops all share the surrounding land.

While we are visiting the ruins, a thunderstorm crashes in overhead, and we take shelter in one of several caves.  We meet a Frenchman who is walking the former Incan territory--from Colombia to Chile... with a llama and a dog, and his new Peruvian friends.  They explain to us the proper way to receive a coca offering (the sacred plant of the Incas and other indigenous peoples, good for altitude sickness, preventing hunger and thirst, and giving a lift of energy).  You receive the offering in both cupped hands,  and give 3 leaves to PachaMama.  If you ever lose your way on the trail, you can place 3 leaves on the trail, and she will help you find your way.  It really works, exclaim our new friends!

On the way home from the ruins, we find one of our favorite treats--choclo con queso, ears of corn with giant yellow kernals, and a slab of salty Incan cheese.  The cheese is sold in market in enormous wheels decorated like wedding cakes, the corn is pulled off the ear by hand.  A bit further down the road, we find another treat, indicated by a red plastic bag hanging outside a house: chicha!  Homemade corn beer, which tastes like fermented corn.  Inside, a family of women in traditional dress are finishing their giant cups: great-grandmother, grandmother, daughter with a baby on her back.  The oldest woman is apparently telling the youngest to drink up in Quechua, she chugs the last of her drink and the ladies depart.

Another favorite treat appears at the store Chocolate, which was closed the first few days of our visit.  We drink big mugs of steaming liquid chocolate, made by melting chocolate squares, and nibble delectable squares of dark chocolate.

We chose to go hiking to some other ruins the morning of Carnival.  After our experience in Puno, we expect it to last all day.  When we arrive in the Plaza de Armas around 3, just 2 bands are still marching and dancing, all the while people are pouring water on them from
2nd story balconies, and spraying shaving cream in the streets.  Quite a party!

In Cusco, we find a favorite vegetarian restaurant El Arbol (the tree) where we get our fill of veggies and even real chai!  After our third meal there, I find a small postcard there for the World Peace and Prayer day in Japan... a sign to me that I was meant to find them!

The faeiries i found in Cusco were on a mural in a hostal, made of the owner´s grandchildren.  That morning I had the thought that my prayers are coming true, and there i found the fairies (my alter-ego being the rainbow sparkle fairy)... I later learned that Kia, the woman who started Casa de Milagros where we will be volunteering, delivered one of those babies!  Truly we are all connected...

One of my favorite connections in Cusco was with the woman from whom I bought my scarf.  I am from the campo, the country, senorita, she told me.  My mother did not learn to speak Spanish, she only speaks Quechua.  She learned instead to weave, to cook.  This woman proceeded to explain to me how she spins the wool from sheep.  When we didn´t recognize the word for sheep, she baaaa´d for us.  (We might not learn the word for sheep, for how fun it is to have people baaa in explanation....) She told me the names of the plants for the natural dyes, and the process to make them. I was honored to buy my scarf after this, in green, somehow everything on this trip is green for me...

After buying my scarf, we visited our friend Cathy, who is an anthropologist from Iowa, writing a book on the people of a small town she has studied for 21 years.  Cathy showed us photos of the natural dye-making process.  She showed us photos of the women from her town, and explained that they make their own clothes out of synthetics--they can get a tighter weave--and save the alpaca garmets for the market-wares.  Cathy also explained that what we see as ¨traditional clothing¨is new since the time of conquest, when the Spaniards mandated that the natives adopt Spanish peasant dress.  She also said that I was wrong when I thought that the people here acquaint the Virgin Mary with Pachamama.  In her village, at least, the people have told her that Mary taught them the ¨civilized¨ ways and practices.

We had heard talk of another strike in Cusco, this one perhpas to last indefinitely, at least of the rail to Cusco and the airport.  We felt ready to get out of this town with its deep history of pride and conflict, marvelous beauty, spirituality, and spiritual materialism...

Puno is where Peru  really came to life for me. the first place that has felt completely and excitinglly foreign, on the first night we arrived, with a big central market, stalls of women with vegetables, cheese, and a giant area of slabs of meat, pig heads...shops selling dinner for 1 or 2 soles (35-70 cents), women with bowler hats and braids carrying their babies on their backs in brightly colored homemade blankets. 

And that first night, we hadn´t expected it, but the Virign of the Candelaria festival had already begun.  We saw many bands walking through the streets, some playing pan flutes wearing traditional ponchos and hats, others wearing jeans and heels and moving to the music of a marching band, some people drinking pisco (Peruvian brandy).  Fireworks going off all night, welcoming the groups of people to Puno, who came in from the countryside for this gathering.   Again, it is when the pan flute troupe passes me that I feel tears begin to form...

The Virgin of the Candelaria is a celebration of Puno´s patron saint, a gathering that lasts February 2-18... the largest festival in the folklore capital of the world!  The celebration is a mixture of Catholicism and traditional Aymara and Quechua culture.  And it took me days to realize, of course, the syncretism that this is also the time of the Carnival, which is different from the Carnival in Brazil. 

Carnival in Peru is a celebration of the harvest, and of Pachamama. It seems to be celebrated all over the country, but especially in areas with a high indigenous population.  In the celebrations that we have witnessed,  people come together dressed in traditional costumes while parading through town playing music and dancing.  It is highly contageous fun! (In the cities it also includes a fair bit of drinking, and hitting other people with water balloons,  shaving cream, and silly string... quite a mixture of the new and the old!)  

The first official day of the Virgin de la Candelaria festival was the actual procession of the Virgin... The saint was carried through the town while a military (!) band played behind her.  She was brought to the plaza de armas, and placed in front of the cathedral.  Fireworks were set off in the crowd, people threw flowers and confetti.  The priests spoke for quite a bit, and unfortunately my Spanish didn&a