"Lanzar:" To Throw

I arrived here, in Huanuco, at 4:30 am on Saturday morning. The first thing my taxi driver did was attempt to put my gigantic duffel on the back of a motorcycle. The attempt was hardly successful and it took almost 20 minutes to rectify.

When I arrived the hotel I had reserved the day before, the infamous "hotel game" ensued. This game is one where the person who owns the hotel acts as if they have never heard of you. I think they do this because they have overbooked the hotel and now have very limited space. After arguing for a moment, it turned out there was a single room left and it was on the 5th floor. At 5 am, I was willing to make concessions I usually do not make. So we lugged my huge bag and extra stuff up many, many stairs to a room that smelled like cooked cabbage. I was concerned about bugs. Sometimes, the prices of rooms change once one arrives. In this case, my room price went up about 60 cents as my room quality went down.

Needless to say, I changed hotels the next morning. The woman who owned the hotel was absolutely shocked that I did not want to stay at her fine establishment. She even offered to let me change rooms in a few days. By that point, I had carried all my stuff back down the 5 flights of stairs. Who needs to go to the gym when you can just play the hotel game?

My new hotel is double the price (a whopping $20 a night), but significantly cleaner and without odor. Apparently the water in Huanuco goes out quite frequently, so I find myself showering a lot just in case I can't again for awhile.

Wednesday I did not leave the hotel. There was a national strike (or riot, whatever we prefer to call it) across Peru. Every time I would discuss the strike with people, they would use the Spanish verb "to throw" which led me to believe that those who are protesting throw things at those who are not.

Since nothing would be open, I was told to "gather provisions." It felt very much like preparing for a hurricane. I bought bread, water, and fruit and waited for the storm to start.

It started around 8am with yelling. Then there was a march around the city. I did not witness either of these things simply out of fear of the "throwing." By about 3pm everyone was tired and things had completely died down. By 4pm I bravely ventured outside to discover the city as a ghost town. The taxi drivers were on strike too, so it was the first time in my Peruvian life that I did not almost die while trying to cross the street. There are positives in everything I guess.

The Day the Laptops Arrived

So I have been here in Peru a little over a month. I have been teaching hundreds of students technology on one little computer. It seems that there was a mistake with my schedule and I kept missing the mass arrival of machines by one week or so.

It is really frustrating to miss the arrival of the machines once. It is more frustrating the second time. By the third time it is a bit hard to have hope. Yet, like they always say, the "third time is a charm." Who ever "they" is even predicated the arrival of laptop in Arequipa correctly. My Spanish grammar in relation to the laptops had always included the progressive or future tense (the laptops are arriving or the laptops will arrive).

We got to the local Ministry of Education in Mollendo, Arequipa (located, quite conveniently, 2.5 hours by bus away from our hotel) and discovered that the laptop had arrived! That's right, past tense. Shock.

We took the laptops to the school, handed them out, and were finally able to watch children connect. They connected, discovered their ability to chat, and completely lost interest in what the teacher was saying. The director of the local ministry office kept trying to tell me something about a ceremony. I wasn't really listening and it was about that time that a first grader with a very bad cold sneezed on me. I just nodded, said "yes I understand" and went back to fixing computers.

A word to the wise: If someone mentions the word "ceremony" in Peru, it may be in your best interest to listen. The next day we arrived to find the school transformed with a large tent, speaker system, and everyone dressed quite professionally.

Apparently the Ministry of Education (from Lima), including the nice man who lets me live with him in Lima, was coming to see the children with laptops and have a ceremony. I know, I know, I should have paid better attention.

The ceremony was a hit. Kids dressed like old men and danced in circles with sticks. I have no idea why (I don't think they know either). Others sang and read poems.

During the ceremony all the kids had their laptops out and were experimenting with them. During a very important (but agreeably boring) speaker, a few discovered the joys of the music creation program. By working together (as the program encourages) they could almost completely drown out the speaker. There was much sadness when I temporarily disabled their speakers.

On a serious note, I really do believe that these laptops will change the educational system in Arequipa. Already, the children are learning to type. They are teaching their families and working to find ways to connect to internet. They are taking pictures of their communities and finding ways to document their lives. And of course, they can now make enough music to completely overpower their teachers. A tool in and of itself.

A LA DERECHA!!! A LA DERECHA!!! (To the right, to the right)

If anyone ever asks me if I saw the Nazca Lines while I was in Peru, I will most assuredly tell them yes. When they ask me if I almost died, I will nod my head vigorously and try not to think about the flight.

For those who are not ancient Incan experts (i.e. most of us), the Nazca lines are figures drawn in the desert of Peru. They were left there by the Incans. Why? While there are a hundred different guesses, no one really knows what they were purpose they served. In fact, no one could even see them until the early 1900s when air planes rose above the deserts of Peru.

Since the people of Nazca were not able to recognize the lines from the ground, it makes sense that tourists aren't able to either. Unfortunately Continental Airlines does not fly over the lines. Neither does Delta. Only Aero Condor makes the trip. The plane was not exactly a Boeing 757.

Actually, the plane only had 6 seats. We had to sit according to our weight in order to maintain balance. Before "take off" we were each given a "special airplane bag" and a set of headphones. I would like to set the record straight and maintain that, although I did turn a bit green, I never used my "special airplane bag" during our flight.

The takeoff was a bit rough as we bounced off the runway. The flight was much rougher. The desert stretched out in front of us, and the Nazca Lines were everywhere at once. Seeing the figures themselves is a bit difficult, and the pilot wanted to make sure everyone got to see them.
Usually the left side of the plane would go first. The pilot would dip the plane completely sideways, while shouting the name of the figure we were looking at in Spanish. Everyone on the right side of the plane would cramp the people on the left, trying to get an early view. The plane would spiral downwards for a few seconds and then it would be the right side's turn.

Now the pilot would shout "A LA DERECHA, A LA DERECHA" (ON THE RIGHT, ON THE RIGHT). Everyone on the right would now peer down as the plane barrel rolled to the right 180 degrees. Peering downwards for a few seconds usually was enough time for me to spot the figure, take a picture, contemplate losing my lunch, and talk myself out of it. There were over 10 figures and the ride lasted 30 minutes. Self control is a beautiful thing…

The photos of the lines are below. I have added some circles to make spotting them a bit easier for you than it was for me.

The plane.

A monkey (I liked this one the best).

A hummingbird!

A spider.

The Magical Mysteries of the Ancient Potato Flower: Bolivia for the Weekend

Since Puno is right next to the Bolivian boarder (and because there is absolutely nothing to do in Puno) we made the three hour trek across the boarder to Copacabana. There was equally little to do in the city of Copacabana. Our tour guide (who did not care how we took our pictures or how many objects we included in them) ushered us quickly down to the port where boarded a catamaran and set out for the Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun).

Arriving on the island we were immediately greeted by an ancient Incan replica boat and two nice Bolivian men dressed in ancient Incan garb. I will call the boat ride "Cultural Experience No. 1." While on board the ancient Incan boat (with a motor) all the tourists were given the opportunity to row the boat (that did not need to be rowed). I was also given ancient Incan garb, hat and all, and promptly almost dropped the paddle overboard. The nice Bolivian helped me "dip" my paddle a few times. Then I turned it over to a much stronger Brit who had more of an affinity for paddling than I.

A quick note of "Cultural Experiences." I do not actually believe that "Cultural Experiences" involve experiencing any part of the South American culture. In fact there is not a single South American, that I have met, that traditionally rides around in ancient Incan boats or wears ancient Incan clothing. In fact, the Incans probably did not even wear the ancient Incan clothing we see today. On a given tour or while eating at a particularly touristy restaurant, one is almost guaranteed some type of musical or dancing enlightenment. Our trip to Bolivia was not short on such experiences.

"Cultural Experience No 2" involved our boat being met by a small band and "traditionally dressed" women who placed a lei of flowers around our necks (attractive, huh?). We then danced through the town following the band to "Cultural Experience No 3" which was an ancient sacrifice of brightly colored sweets and llama sweat. The people who actually lived on the island stood around and laughed at us. (They don´t generally do this type of thing)

It was after the ancient Incan ceremony and before the ancient Incan musical festival that I had a brilliant idea. Since the Island of the Sun is situated on Lake Titicaca and since Lake Titicaca has sail boats and since I know how to sail- I asked to opt out of "Cultural Experience No 4" and try my hand at Bolivian sailing.

Bolivian sailing was a bit of a disaster to say the least. I assured the man (whose boat I was borrowing) that I knew how to sail, that I could sail "anything." That was cocky. This attitude rarely has good results.

The boat I was on was a bit different, to say the least. It was missing what were, in my opinion, very essential parts of sail boats and had one rope that was tied to a rock. I never managed to figure out the purpose of the rock or the rope. I almost lost the rock. I also never actually managed to raise the sail without extreme disasters. Said disasters included getting caught in a large fishing net, dropping the sail on my head, dropping the sail in the water, almost hitting rocks, hitting rocks, almost hitting other boats, washing up on the beach, etc (you get the idea). The poor fisherman was standing on the shore holding his hat with worry. I was standing on the boat, looking for my hat, worrying as well. Finally the sail was raised and we realized there was absolutely no wind. We then accepted our fate, put down our sail and (you guessed it) paddled into shore.
That evening, over dinner, we were lucky enough to have our fifth (and final) "Cultural Experience." This was a musical concert of flutes which included the infamous tune "The Ancient Potato Flower" (undoubtedly Incan). This tune was repeated over and over again as we all danced. In fact, I am of the firm belief that the "Ancient Potato Flower" is the only song that group could play. I am also of the belief that the Incans did not have a song called the "Ancient Potato Flower." Unfortunate...I know.

"Más Alla": Welcome to Puno

Well I made it to Puno. There is not a heck of a lot to do in Puno. In fact, my travel guide to Perú says that one should not plan to stay into Puno for more than a two days. The book itself only provides enough activities to satisfy even the slowest looker for an afternoon. I would like to welcome you to Puno...day 5.

The day after our arrival, we traveled to the Floating Islands (Uros) to tour. We were put in a boat, taken 3 miles out on Lake Titicaca and met the people who infamously weaved their own land among the reeds. When they reeds very deep down rot, the people just weave new reeds on the surface to replace the old reeds. We got dropped off at an island, met the people who lived there, bought things made out of reeds and left. As far as sightseeing goes that was, by far, the most exciting thing I have done in Puno.

Monday morning I arrived bright and early, read to equip the world (ok, well the entire Puno community) with laptops. Unfortunately the town where I have been stationed is "in Puno" but at the same time- very far away from Puno. I was told (I think) to come back on Tuesday so we could go to the "very remote school that is not in Puno."

Tuesday...we went to the school. Now I thought that I had become a master of every mode of transportation since getting to Perú. Count with me now- I have managed to go by plane, train, bus (many times), horse, car, boat, motorcycle (don´t worry Mom, I wasn´t driving), and legs--the llama is coming, I promise. Well these days my commute to school every day goes something like this. Leave Puno (the city) at the crack of dawn (6:30 am). Take a taxi to a bus station where I board a bus that takes me to Ilave. This trip takes about an hour and costs a little less than 60 cents. I then get in another taxi that takes me to the second bus stop.

Let me stop here and explain that this bus is a new experience, even for me. The van probably seats (comfortably)about 12 people. I counted 20 people aboard today´s journey to Cusini. The road is unpaved and those prone to car sickness should probably fast a few days before climbing on (or hanging on...as the case may be).

So I arrive at the bus stop and sit for about 30 minutes waiting for the van to leave. Eventually, when full, the van departs down the dusty dry road. After about 6 more stops and 45 minutes later, I get close to school. The van stops and I get out and begin the 15 minute walk from the van to the school (hopefully arriving around 9ish).

Then around 12pm, I repeat the entire process backwards, hoping I do not forget a step. There is one little glitch in the plan. The last bus/van, well it does not actually have a schedule. I have been told it runs every hour, but when during that hour is anyone´s guess. Yesterday we almost missed the van. Since there is not an actually bus stop (people just stand in the street and wave), there is no way to alert the bus you are on your way. Well, we had no other options...we ran for it.

The school director kept yelling we needed to go "más alla" which translates to mean "more that-away". This seems to define our trip to Puno (or where ever we are). So we ran more that-away and more that-away and someone finally got on their bike rode up to the bus and saved us.

The picture to the left is the "bus and bus stop." I am still recovering from the run (I will blame the altitude and not the fried cheese).

The kids in Cusini are fantastic and are definitely worth the 5 hour commute. We taught (or tried to teach) them how to play four square today. I don´t think we were that successful, but perhaps I will look up how to say the word "bounce" in Spanish and maybe I will have more luck tomorrow.

Por Caballo: Yes, we went by horse

So I was feeling a bit adventurous on Tuesday. There had been a little part of me that was itching to see the ruins located near Cusco. The guidebook said I could hire a taxi for about $20 to take me around. A woman in the Plaza de Armas (the center of Cusco) told me I could go "por caballo" for $10. Well, I´m always up for a bit of adventure. That´s right, we went touring by horseback.
Now the guidebook (which I, shockingly enough, did not read first) warns that this is probably not the safest of ideas. When the random truck arrived to pick me up to take me to the "ranch," I was of agreement. Oh well, you only live once- I hopped in. I was taken to a field and then led up a path. About ten minutes later we were beginning to fear that there were no horses. Luckily horses have a very distinct scent which we caught wiff of as we arrived at the "corral."
We did not have helmets, our guide did not have a horse, but I had the time of my life racing along the Cusqueñan countryside from one set of ruiñas to the next.

We first made it to Puka Pukara. It was pink. Our guide nor our guidebook knew what it had been. This is beginning to be a common trend among our ruins visits. Oh well, it was pretty nonetheless.

Then we went to an ancient Incan Bath. It was nice. I kind of resembled the other 10 Incan baths I have seen since I got here. Ok, maybe not 10, but you get the idea...

We ended up at the infamous Saqsaywamán (pronounced, and I kid you not, "Sexy Woman") ruins. The first few times I hear about "Sexy Woman" I was confused. I thought people were either hitting on me, offering me a massage, or trying to tell me about a night club that I did not want to go to. As it turns out, the Saqsaywamán ruins are the most famous in Cusco. We took a few pictures of multiple objects (like our guide had taught us at Machu Picchu). The ruins were truly impressive. Sawsaywamán was once a site of Incan military strength and religious significance.

At one point the guide just let us run. The air was cool, my horse was quick, and I felt the my hair flying behind me (which it could do without a helmet). It is pretty much impossible to describe the beauty of Peru, but I do not think one can truly experience it without out going por caballo. And as for tomorrow, well tomorrow we are leaving Cusco behind and heading up even higher. Get ready, Puno here we come!

Machu Picchu- "The Old Mountain"

Well my legs hurt. A lot. Well they are healing, but hiking Machu Picchu was no small task. These ancient ruin are some of the most well preserved in the Western World and the site boasts the title of one of the seven great marvels of the century.

I boarded a train from Cusco at 6 am on Friday morning. It was dark. I was cold. I was in the student "backpacker" section. There was no heat. But, I did save 20 bucks.

When we got to Augas Calientes (the town situated below Machu Picchu) 5 hours later, I was still a bit frozen. Luckily I hopped a bus and began the 25 minute ascent upwards to Machu Picchu.
As you can see, the road leading from the town to the mountain is a bit curvy, at best.

We spent the first day walking around with our guide. We hired him for about 10 dollars. He had an interesting way of speaking (in English, thankfully). He seemed to have an auctioneer voice and felt the need to raise his tone at the end of every sentence. This made things a bit difficult to understand.

Luckily for us, our guide was also a photographer. He knew exactly where the best places were to take amazing photos. No..I'm only kidding. His suggestions were pretty terrible. His idea of a good shot was one that included three prehistoric buildings and a llama. If my shot was not dead on, he would patiently wait until I had the photograph just right. The photo to the right is a prime example. I think it took me about 4 tries to get the "ancient door, the ancient steps, AND the guard house!" Can you imagine?

Then we made the one hour walk downwards. That may have been a bad idea. While the view was beautiful, we almost died. But hey, what is life without a bit of adventure?

Saturday we made the hike up to Inkaputa which it the entrance to Machu Picchu from the Inka Trail. It was an hour hike uphill, but the view was fantastic.

I figured I would post some more Machu Picchu pictures. Enjoy!!!!