Saying Goodbye to Bethany

The calmness of her voice gave her away. I knew the instant I picked up the phone, the meaning of the call, but she didn't say it then. Instead, she said she wanted us to get together for pisco sour and manjar (something very similar to dulce de leche) and she would be over in an hour or so. My anxiety, which had begun in my big toe shot bolts of lightening first through my calves, and then thighs. Once it reached my stomach, the game was over. The stomach is like miracle growth to anxiety, there is no turning back after miracle growth has cast it's spell. After the anxiety had reached the furthest regions of my body, it began planting clouds of doubt. What will you do when she leaves Chile? What will life as a sola gringa be like? Will we make it? Should we consider going home as well? I knew why she wanted to go home. She had been talking about how unhappy Chile had made her, and that staying in Chile for the sake of finishing the program was not as important to her as being happy. But, I was not Bethany, and although I had ridden along a similar roller coaster as she, mine consisted of less dips and more height. There were definite pockets of unhappiness in my life in Chile, and moments when I thought to myself, “What the hell am I doing here? All I want, is to be somewhere comfortable and familiar, with heaters and Taco Cabanas!” But life as a roller coaster does not coast only in the low points but also reaches heights unimaginable. Walking home from school through the valley near our house, I often feel overwhelmed by the beauty of the sunset in the sky as big as any Texas sky. The horses would look up from their grazing seemingly annoyed by my presence, but a little apprehensive. The rolling hills surrounding the town never turned brown, but seemed to grow greener with each passing day. Life is not meant to be a walk in the park because without a struggle, there is nothing to be proud of and I was proud of our bold decision to come to a foreign country to help children possibly get ahead in life.

Over pisco sours we discussed in detail her decision to leave. Although I would have preferred her to stay I knew that this was her choice, something that could only be decided by her. The determination in her voice dared anyone to argue and we respectfully made no attempt to contend. We discussed her plans for the following two weeks before her departure. Her flight was to leave from Santiago, and we would meet there with our fellow fifth and sixth region buddies to say our adieus to Bethany. We treated ourselves to one night in the luxurious Marriott with Bethany's ex-employee discount, and lived lavishly the following morning with a dip in the hot tub and a roasting in the spa. We feasted on sushi in the richer part of Santiago, partied with our fellow Chilean friends and said what we had come to say, “goodbye.”

Walking home from the bus stop in Pichilemu, I felt a physical change to the town. An emptiness that hadn't been there before, was present now. Possibly it was the hole in my heart projecting onto the town, a hole that I didn't want to face. But it is my opinion that the town felt her departure as well, and formed a black hole where her spirit should have been. As I walked, I kept repeating to myself, “We are going to be Okay. We are going to make it. We CAN make it.” I knew the words I said to be true, but life would change, and the emptiness saddened me. Life had been easier with our friend and ally, but we could prevail, we WOULD prevail!

The Tale of the Passports or Nearly Deported. (By Kyle Rogers!)

It all began back in March, when we had first started the program. Things were going relatively smoothly and it looked to us as though the Ministry had everything under control. Little did we know that within a month, all Hell was going to break loose.

As the orientation commenced, the Ingles Abre Puertas aka IAP (English Opens Doors for all you Gringos) staff assured us that the few hick-ups that many of us had faced upon our arrival were typical and we SHOULDN'T WORRY. This phrase; “no se preocupen” would be repeated to us countless times at every point in which a normal human being would in fact worry. On the third or fourth day of orientation the staff collected all of our passports so they could register all of us at once and save us the trouble of having to do it ourselves. Needless to say, this was a bit nerve racking. From the very moment we get them it is ingrained in us that our Passport is our life when abroad and should never be handed over without question. However, considering that we were told before hand that it would be necessary to receive temp visas, and the collection of the passports was done so in a very orderly manor, we handed our lives over with the reassurance of “no se preocupen.” This was the moment that Hell's gate slowly began to creep open. Over a week goes by and we trusting little volunteers still had not received our passports back. The only form of encouragement we have is that we ALL have not received them, not just an unlucky few, so in the case of some huge mishap the ministry would have to deal with 70 angry foreigners and not just a couple. As fate would have it though, our passports were actually returned ahead of schedule and all of us got them back with plenty of time to spare. At this moment, one VERY important thing should have happened that did not and if said thing had happened, I would not have needed to write this story and you would not be having the pleasure of reading it. This is of course the ONLY good thing that came from our passport adventure; a wonderful story to tell.

Point one, at which all could have been prevented; the IAP should have made it very clear to all of us that this was not the last thing we would need to do to register with the grand Republic of Chile. When we arrived at our respective towns we would have to register our Visas and receive our Chilean residence identification cards or carnets as they're called here. Now, to give IAP due respect, this vital little piece of information was in fact included in our Volunteer hand books that they did tell us on numerous occasions that we needed to read. The problem was that the hand book said very clearly that the regional coordinator would inform us when and where we would need to go to register our Visas. We, the 6^th region volunteers have no regional coordinator. Thus the gates of Hell swing wide open.

For the next Month Bethany, Vanessa and myself struggle through what would prove to be one of the most frustrating and disorganized times of all our lives. Fact 1; Bethany is the only one of us that spoke Spanish. Fact 2; No one at the Departamento Provincial de Educacion (Provincial Department of Education in Gringo) aka the Prov. speaks English. Put 1 and 2 together and Bethany becomes our coordinator. Let me also point out that we were told prior to our arrival here in Pichilemu that everything had been arranged and someone from the IAP would be there for a week to get us acquainted with our new home so “no se preocupen.” Definitely did not happen, and definitely needed to have. This would be point two, at which all could have been prevented.

Point three, at which all could have been prevented is slightly dependent on point two and slightly resembles point one but could certainly have occurred without point two having taken place and is slightly different than point one. To receive your Carnet (see above if your not sure what that is), you must register your temporary visa within 30 days. After the 30 days, you are required to pay a fee of 50 US dollars and, as we would find out later, be put under residential probation pending an investigation. I will explain this in due course, suffice it to say, we were screwed. 33 days after we had received our Visas, the IAP calls to find out how things are going and to make sure that we have registered our Visas. 3 days after the deadline. Not 3 days before, not even the day of, but 3 days after. So this point gets included because I feel that had the IAP truly been considering the well being of their volunteers, the backbone of their program, this phone call would not have come when it did. Regardless, the IAP informs us what we were supposed to have done and that it was clearly stated in the volunteer hand book that we obviously did not read. After pointing out that in fact it was not the accused who had obviously not read the manual but the accusers, we got around to how to resolve the issue. Now the fun began.

We were told that the first thing we would need to do is go to the Governor's office here in Pichilemu and inform them of our situation. At this point one could add another point at which everything could have been prevented, as this was yet another perfect opportunity for the IAP to send someone to help us through our ever increasingly difficult situation. We met with the Governor's secretary who after hearing a good 5 seconds worth of our situation promptly told us exactly where we needed to go to resolve our issue; the Police of Investigations in San Fernando. The red flag shot right up at this but who were we to say no and she did tell us that we would not be fined and of course “no se preocupen.” Bethany then called the IAP who then called the secretary and then called Bethany back to say “go to San Fernando, you will be given a verbal warning, you won't be fined and, of course...”I don't even have to say it do I? If that sounds confusing to you just imagine how we felt. Certainly could have used a coordinator at that point right?

Point four, at which all could have been resolved was the day we went to San Fernando. You would think that the fact that we were having to go to the Police of Investigations would have merited a liaison from the IAP but Bethany spoke Spanish so clearly there was no need. We were then taken to the office of so and so. Officer so and so then spent the next two hours typing up a written warning stating that we had committed such and such infractions of such and such laws and that pending an investigation and such and such actions we would be given our Carnets. As this form was being written, officer so and so received a phone call. Bethany overheard him say that he did not understand why the Governor's secretary had sent us to him as he was obligated to put us under investigation and that all of this could have been resolved there in Pichilemu, by her. Either she wasn't paying attention when we were explaining our situation, (YES) or she was lazy and didn't want to do the work, (PROBABLY YES ASWELL). Anyways, after the papers were made we signed the forms and received our temporary residential identification cards and then were very casually asked to hand over our passports. All three of us froze. Without knowing it, Bethany and I both started to consider walking out then and there. My mind began to race with what ifs and plans of escape. Alas, out of sheer lack of a better idea and a pure leap of faith that this guy wasn't going to screw us over, we agreed and for the second time handed our lives over. We were however very certain to make it clear that our passports were extremely important to us and we were somewhat reassured by the fact that so and so told us if at any time we needed them, we could come and borrow them. He also said however that we were not allowed to leave the country during our probation. This concerned all of us a bit but I figured, if there was any kind of emergency, we wouldn't really have any problems getting out of the country. Later that week I contacted the US consulate in Santiago who told us that they knew exactly where we were and if anything were to happen, they would get us out and recover our passports. This was the first time in a long time that someone said “don't worry” and it actually made me feel better. Anyways, Officer so and so informed us before we left that under normal circumstances, infractors such as ourselves would have to come once a week to check in so as to make sure we hadn't left the country. He told us that because he didn't really think we were going anywhere, we could just call every Monday to let him know we were still around. He also said that at most, we would have to wait 2 weeks to get our passports back, at most. 2 weeks turned into 3 and still no passports. Bethany then receives a call from the Governor's Secretary informing us that we will have to pay a fine before we can get our passports back and our Carnets. We all think EXTORTION and quickly contact everyone we can think of at the Min. of Education so that someone will come and sort this out for us. This is quite obviously Point five at which the IAP could have stepped in.

Resolution. At this point we were all a little furious. We refused to fork over the third of our paychecks they were asking of us for a mistake that was clearly the Ministry's booboo. I was ready to be locked up kicking and screaming, just so the IAP would finally get the point that this was not something they could continue to ignore and work on from the fringes. Unfortunately, I never get the opportunity. Bethany relays our situation to her boyfriend Nick who relays it to his dad. His dad relays it to his Lawyer friend from Santiago who calls Bethany and says what the heck is going on and how can I help? Bethany tells him all that has happened and within 24 hours he is able to get more done than anyone else has in over 3 weeks. He calls her the next day and says “go to San Fernando and get your passports. Then go to the Governor's office in Pichilemu and get your ID cards. If anything doesn't happen how it's supposed to, call me!” Thus a lawyer slams shut the gates of Hell.

Now, after Bethany gets her lawyer involved who has pretty much already saved all our butts and did 90% of the work for them, the IAP sends someone to help. Gabbi, who we really do like by the way, meets us in San Fernando and takes us to get our passports and then our money which was a whole other can of worms. We weren't quite home free at this point cause the Carnet office in San Fernando was packed and the bank was closing so we chose to get the money that day and go to Santa Cruz another day to get our Carnets. This proved pretty painless actually but still inconvenient and rather anticlimactic. They don't even look all that great and we hardly ever use them. I often wonder what would have happened had we never registered anyways. Would they really have known? Some days I'm just not sure and other days I'm positive that the Chilean Gov't. doesn't have a clue!

So in the end it all worked out and the many points at which the Ministry could have stepped in proved to be useless. Who knew that all we needed to do was get a lawyer involved? In the end, we are still here and each day things get a little easier. Do we still have some problems? Of course, but the trick to it all, we finally realize is simple; “NO SE PREOCUPEN!!!”

Peru; Lima and the Jungle

We were badly in need of a Vacation, and Peru with the Family was just what the doctor ordered. We left for Santiago, Wednesday evening after school. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 6 am Thursday morning, meaning we had to be at the airport at 4 am. Little did we know, that this habit of waking up before the sun rises and proclaims it's presence to the world, would be a regular event in the life of the Sanders\Rogers\Braun\Mayne Family adventure. Arriving into Lima and did not find our names on the numerous boards being held for arranged pickups. We searched our bags for the name of our hotel. Luckily we found it and asked a friendly cabdriver if he new of our hotel or where our previously arranged driver was. After a couple of minutes he returned with a man who had the name of our hotel on his sign but not the names of his passengers. The cabdriver helping us insisted with urgency and authority that he obtain the names of his supposed passengers before we enter the other guys car. We had heard horror stories of unreliable taxi drivers taking their unsuspecting and vulnerable passengers to deserted locations and stealing anything and everything they could, leaving them stranded without money or valuables. Though Kyle and I are sometimes naive and overly trusting, I believe that we are pretty safe travelers so we quickly agreed that the man should know who we are or at least be able to find out. After all of the hassle, it turned out that this particular driver from our hotel, did in fact obtain our correct names and he didn't rob everything we had. I was still thankful for the bossy cabdrivers assistance in our complicated and yet simple ordeal.

Driving past numerous police cars lining the streets, we discovered that the teachers in all of Peru were striking and affecting all aspects of Peruvian life including tourists traveling. Luckily the strike never effected us throughout the entire vacation, but we ran into several people along our path whose planes and buses were prevented from continuing to their appointed destinations because of the ruckus, including a couple who spent over 30 hours on what was supposed to be a 6 hour bus ride. Arriving to our hotel, we found Mayne, my mom's co-worker in the hotel alone. Mayne flew separately and my families flight had been delayed out of Miami, and although they should had arrived at the hotel the night before, they still hadn't left Miami. So here we were, in a foreign country with my mom's friend who I had only met twice before, who seemed very nervous with the whole situation, and all I wanted, was a nice shower and to crawl into a nice warm bed. Although Lima is definitely warmer than Pichilemu, the clouds were gray and ominous and looked to be threatening rain and possibly a demolition of our first day of this supposed vacation. We made an expensive international call to my mom, and learned that she is booked for the next flight out and should arrive before our next flight to Iquitos the next morning. As for Nancy and her kids, we still had no word. Lisa and Jonathan, who self-admittedly proclaim to have little patience with traveling, were ready to spit bullets and wanted nothing more to do with this trip to Peru. The original flight had taken off, but because of mechanical issues with the air pressure, they were forced to return to Miami, and endure the pleasures of sleeping on airport floors and dining with airport fast food. The entire trip from Texas to Peru took over 48 hours and during the whole ordeal, no one had a full night's sleep or anything remotely close. But as they didn't arrive until a whole 24 hours after we did, I will continue with our first day in Lima.

After cleaning up, Kyle and I find Mayne and we drew out a makeshift plan. Nancy had already determined what we would do in Lima, so I hadn't bothered to plan anything for our first day, which made us lost little puppies in the big scary city. We asked for advice at the front desk, and they sent us to a restaurant across the street appropriately named Las Tejas. I still claim that as the best food we ate in all of Peru. Of all places, the one named after our state! The three of us split an appetizer and then a large meal and headed on to the markets of Peru. Normally on the first day of a trip, I don't buy souvenirs as I am still testing out the waters of the appropriate price and the means of bargaining, plus I was just feeling non-committal. Having traveled in Italy with the cleverly thieving gypsies, Kyle and I are very aware of how to hold our belongings and how not to. Peru is infamous for it's high crime rate of tourists which puts one on edge to begin with, but walking with Mayne who was comfortable holding her camera dangling, from her wrist, making her a walking target, made us want to panic. We quickly told her, and the day continued on without hiccups. In the evening, after getting lost, which of course never happens to us :), we enjoyed a nice evening dinner by the ocean in the tucked away Larcomar, a very Ritzy shopping area that is literally on the side of a huge cliff. Tuckered from our early flight and painfully aware that our next flight the following morning was at 5 am, meaning that we had to leave the hotel by 2:30 am, we headed back early. Our nights rest, as I predicted was not very restful because my mom was scheduled to arrive around 11 pm to the hotel. Also, our friend Bethany, the other volunteer in Pichi, was supposed to arrive and introduce us to her boyfriend who was coming in from the United States at midnight. When our alarm went off at 2 am and no one had knocked on our door, I became worried. Where was my mom? Where was Bethany? Mayne informed us that my mom had not arrived, and that she had stayed awake waiting for her. I was baffled by the woman's energy! We asked the desk clerk where my mom was and he informed us that her flight had been delayed but she should be in the airport. As for Bethany, she was on her way. The way our flights worked out, Bethany, her boyfriend and Kyle and I should have had a couple hours to chat away the night, but as fate had it, we were only alloted 15 minutes to meet the man we had heard about for 4 months.

On our thirty minute drive to the airport, Mayne finally got some sleep, while Kyle and I marveled at the tackiness of the Casinos with their bright lights and silly English name like “New York”and “Atlantic City” illuminating our drive. We arrived at the Lima airport, which we later dubbed our home away from home since so many of our flights were through this particular airport. We found my mom, in her purple dress and bright Bahama bag, curled up and sleeping in a chair. She was very relieved to see us, and exclaimed that she was going to fall over and die of exhaustion if she didn't get some sleep soon. Nancy, Lisa and John were not going to make this flight to Iquitos, but were supposed to meet us there later in the day. As luck would have it though, our flight to Iquitos was canceled because of “weather.” This was funny because the other airlines didn't seem to need to cancel their flights. We were handed cards with phone numbers of the appropriate people to contact to reschedule and told to pick up our baggage. I made my way to a phone, and discovered that the phone required money almost every couple of minutes to keep it activated, and that the office wouldn't open until 8 am, another 3 hours away. After being given various and distinctly different directions from many different people, we decided to stand in line for customer service with many other English speaking people. An airline worker asked why we were standing in line, and told us that we were in the wrong place. Having deposited my sleepwalking mother and Mayne in chairs, Kyle and I refused to leave the line until we talked to someone at a computer. Another couple behind us decided to try and do some research over the situation and discovered that flights were being sold for the 3:30 pm flight. The Canadian girls in front of us who switched between speaking French and English informed us that they did not believe “this hocus pocus” about the problem being weather because if planes could land in Canada, they could fly and land anywhere. They instructed us to not move until we were given what we wanted, which is exactly what we ended up having to do. When we arrived at the front of the line, originally we were ignored for a good ten minutes after which we were told that there was nothing they could do for us, and we needed to call the number on the card. We explained to the woman that we could not make the call since the office wasn't open. We didn't have a phone and didn't have money to use a pay phone and she could do something for us because there was a computer at her fingertips. The Canadian girls walked off with tickets in hand, and we used that evidence as leverage. The couple who had previously been standing behind us also started arguing that there were seats available on the 3:30 flight because they were being sold, therefore the airport should give the canceled passengers first priority. The University of Texas biology graduate student(what a small world!) standing behind us also chipped in. We had formed a type of gringo blockade and were not leaving until we accomplished what we came here for, obtaining tickets. It was a painful process for me, especially since I hate confrontation and I'm embarrassed easily, but Kyle took the reins and guided us to victory after the stones of my wall front seemed to be in danger of a collapse. We stood in line for a good 30 minutes and argued for another 30 until we victoriously walked away with our 4 new tickets for the following day at 1 am. We then informed my mother of our valiant victory, but she couldn't hold her eyelids open. We went in search of finding a hotel, and in the process found Lisa and Jon. Our greeting was less of “hello, how are you, oh how I have missed you.” and more of barking orders. I felt like I had been at the airport for an entire day, and all I wanted was to get my mom to a bed, and make sure that Nancy, Lisa and Jon got on our same flight so this vacation could actually start.

Arriving at our new hotel, just in time for breakfast, we determined that we should do Lima for half of the day while we were still awake and come back to the hotel in the afternoon and sleep until we had to leave at 11:30 pm for our 1 am flight. I have to say the taxi ride was the most exciting part of all of Lima. Seeing the faces of the moms who we later dubbed as “The Queens” as they stepped out of their taxis was almost enough to have Kyle doubled over on the dangerous Lima street in tears of laughter. My mom exclaimed that Fiesta Texas should add “taxi rides in Lima” as a new roller coaster. If there are traffic laws at all, they are mere suggestions, and loosely followed. Nancy gave us the task of finding one stop sign in the entire city, which I am pleased to say, we found two, not that they were respected, but who cares about traffic laws anywho! Honking is the mode of all needed traffic communication. Whoever honks first and loudest gets the right of way. All cars seemed to drive with no more than two inches between bumpers, and we were nearly hit by two buses. Occasionally there were traffic lights, and luckily they held enough authority to stop traffic. It was also common for cars to stop where they pleased. In the middle of a street with moving traffic for example is A Okay. After our eventful roller coaster ride, we visited a church which was pretty dull in comparison to the death defying drive in the morning except for the catacombs underneath the church with the bones in delicate and interesting patterns. We wandered around the city admiring the sights and sounds of our foreign surroundings. We watched the changing of the guards, but what was even more interesting than a bunch of men in uniforms playing silly tourist songs was the old man with the graying and tired dog, dressed up in a hat and sunglasses obviously well accustomed to his picture being taken. He looked around at the laughing tourists as if saying, “Am I really all that funny and interesting? Can I go home now and have my treat?” But of course we had to take his picture, because what is cuter than a dog in human clothing, and even better, in Peruvian clothing! We also made our way to Chinatown and ate at a Dim Sum restaurant where Jon promptly fell asleep on the table. Shopping of course was inevitable in Chinatown, but after avoiding too much damage to our wallets, we made our way to our hotel. However this place was anything but restful, being situated right on a main street and very close to a drive through Kentucy Fried Chicken!

Iquitos

Arriving into Iquitos at 3:30 am, we waited for all of our luggage to find it's way to us. Lisa and Mayne's luggage were the very last pieces to be unloaded, and as they waited standing side by side, each with long, black, carefully groomed hair, wringing their hands awaiting the disastrous words, “lost baggage” I thought about how alike they both were. But luckily those words never came and peace reigned again as we were taken to our lodging in Iquitos.

Aware that we were in the Jungle, Lisa began asking what animals we might encounter. Lion was the first on her list, but Kyle assured her that even though we had just seen a statue of a lion, there were no lions or bears in the Amazon Basin. Our lodging in Iquitos was only temporary because our real lodge was four hours away from Iquitos by boat. We were told that we had till 8 am to sleep, which was only 4 hours away. Noticing the giant whirlpool tub in our bathroom, I excitedly stripped my clothes off for a nice relaxing bath only to find that we had no running water. I stood there naked, willing the water to flow out of the facets and grant me this wish after three nights of incomplete sleep, but it refused to listen to reason. We are still unclear as to why the water was turned off and why we were teased by this magnificent beacon of cleanliness and tranquility and not warned beforehand of it's impending message of sadness, no running water. After spotting the water in buckets, we brushed our teeth and crawled into our large magnificent bed which seemed like it would be true comfort, but it was more like a hard cardboard box with sheets. 6:30 am there was a knock on the door. Lisa wants us to wake up so we can stare longingly at the Amazon River outside our balcony. She hadn't slept the entire night for the excitement of truly being in the Amazon Jungle, but unlike Lisa, I could continue to sleep with that knowledge. An hour later, my mom knocks on the door and tells us we should wake. The time is 7:30 and I distinctly remember the woman saying we had till 8 am to sleep. Why is no one sleeping!? We grudgingly crawled out of our bed and dressed into our summer clothes! Putting summer clothing on after being in Chilean winter without heaters is why I came to Peru. It is a wonderful feeling knowing that one layer of clothing is sufficient, and that the sun will bath my ghostlike body in blankets of gold and keep me warm. I felt like, I hadn't seen the sun in years. This was entirely my fault, however, since, we moved to the Southern Hemisphere. To winter, when Summer with it's fiercely powerful rays scorching the air is in the Northern Hemisphere.

Our balcony had a fantastic view of the Amazon and I was so excited to finally be on the famous River that we read about in Geography and History class. It's undoubtedly, the widest river in all of the world, but it is also debated to be the longest river, when including it's tributaries. A river that holds so much majesty, and mystery, and has given birth to some of the worlds most interesting wildlife. Right outside my window, so close, I could run out and jump in if I so pleased. It is a body of water that regardless of it's statistics deserves respect just because of it's immense beauty and splendor. What secrets did it have in store for us?

After the long process of herding our family to the front, ready to face the jungle, we head out the door ready for breakfast. Iquitos, the self-proclaimed motorcycle capitol of the world, is a crazy place with truly more motorcycles than anywhere I have ever been. So many in fact, it is rare to see a car. But we don't walk to breakfast, we take taxis. If the only mode of transportation is zipping motorcycles, how did my mom in her bright pink shirt, and her matching and extremely wide brimmed pink hat, climb onto the back of a motorcycle, put her arms around a strange Peruvian cyclist's waist and hold on for dear life? Ha ha; I wish that had been the case, because that would have been a terrific picture. Instead of that hilarious scene, however, imagine horse drawn carriages, not so fancy, being pulled by motorcycle instead of horses. Two to three people could fit in one comfortably and off we went zooming around the motorcycle capitol in our motorcycle drawn carriages.

Ordering breakfast was an ordeal, not only because we seemed to have trouble describing French toast, but also because of the hoards of walking vendors who spotted unsuspecting prey in my mom and Nancy. We tried to warn my mom not to make eye-contact, but ignoring our advice, she got sucked into the world of “buy this!, real cheap, please miss!” and I knew we had lost her. Luckily she made it out of that jungle without too many bite marks. We finished our breakfast, with our guide Edson mulling in his head, “What have I gotten myself into.”

Finding our seats on the boat that would take us to our wilderness lodge, we settled in for our four hour journey down the Amazon. Who knew that all of our winter clothing would come in handy in our Amazon boat? The wind was forceful and cool off the water, making the air within the boat whipping around our scantily covered bodies much colder than we had anticipated. The boat consisted of our crazy family, a nice talkative couple, our guide and the driver. After pulling out my and Kyle's arsenal of winter clothing and passing them out to to the boat, the nice couple in the front were kind enough to share their winter gear with those of us still lacking in coverage. After arriving at the main lodge, and eating lunch, we headed to our lodge which was tucked even further away in the midst of the jungle, at a more leisurely pace. The winter gear was re-packed, and the sun found it's way from out behind the overcast clouds to shine on not only us, but the beautiful wildlife surrounding us. Nancy found herself the first victim of travelers illness along our route, not from motion sickness, but from something from breakfast currently in disagreement with her body. Her kids crowded around her concerned because they had never seen their mom ill in that way. Luckily travelers illness did not linger long with Nancy and moved to it's next victim of the trip Kyle, by the following day.

Naps were the first line of business, followed by a hike through the woods. Dinner was fantastic and I found myself eating too much and breaking my rule, of only eating until full. After dinner we walked down the treacherous wooden stairs without handrails and uneven planks down to the water's edge. After risking life and limb just to arrive at ground level, we had to make our way from one log laid in the mud to the next, without falling or slipping. As soon as we had found our way to the boat, the rain released from the Heavens in sheets. Our intent, this evening, was to go Caiman searching or crocodile hunting as Nancy liked to call it, to make the adventure sound more exciting. But soon it was right back through the obstacle course to the lodge as it started to rain. We weren't giving up, only retrieving our ponchos for protection. The rain let up, and we made our way back to the boat, and within fifteen minutes had caught a Spectacled Caiman. He was much smaller than I anticipated, but beautiful. We then continued on our night outing. We didn't find anymore that evening, and our guide decided to turn around, when he noticed some of his passengers passed out in the boat from exhaustion.

Each bed at the lodge had it's own mosquito net. We learned how important these mosquito nets can be when camping, after hearing a story of one of the other guests at the lodge. He said that while camping in the woods, he once leaned against the mosquito net surrounding him, and in the morning along the side that he had leaned against, the mosquitoes had feasted, leaving him welted and in pain. The next morning the Queens went on a bird watching outing, and came back with a long list of birds they had seen. Honestly, it is a miracle that Nancy convinced my mom to wake up before six at all, but miracles obviously do happen. After breakfast, we headed back to our lodge were we hiked, laid in hammocks, and tested out the zip line. Our hike was hilarious in itself, because we all had to find our size boots for walking through the mud. I have discovered that trekking through sludge is one of the greatest feelings in life. Normally we try and avoid stepping in mud because we ruin our shoes and the rest of the day our feet are cold, wet and covered in goo, but with the protection of our mud boots, we were allowed the privilege of stepping in every mud puddle we could find. Mud was not our enemy on this outing, but a friend and a playmate. The brown soft, squishy substance that makes wonderful gurgling noises when stepped in filled my being with over bounding joy. I felt like I was rebelling against all the years of oppression of not being able to enjoy the loveliness of stepping ankle deep in a mud hole. With each step through our hike, I specifically attempted to find the best mud pits. If I had worn clothing that could be thrown away or if I hadn't been afraid of some of the creatures I might find, hiding in that gooey substance, I might have rolled around in it, to fully appreciate the release of my emotions. I felt like a child, who was allowed to get as messy as possible, it was great! After our hike, we ate lunch and laid around in hammocks again. Kyle was taken hostage by the evil traveler's illness and therefore turned down the idea of zipping along the tops of the trees in harnesses. The rain started again, but the trees protected us from the forcefulness of the water. Not to say we didn't get drenched, because I was completely wet, from head to foot, but I didn't mind. Because of the rain, we ran more than we hiked to the location of the zip line, and the rain increased the depths of the mud holes, causing more splatterage along my unprotected pant legs. After harnessing up, we zipped from one tree house like structure to the next, admiring our height and the immense world around us. It was a really beautiful sight, and would have been even more lovely, had the mosquitoes not feasted on the only unexposed area of skin, my hand. After that outing, I discovered 21 mosquito bites on my hands alone, which was with mosquito replant.

The following day, before we returned to Iquitos, we visited a small village with a school and a market, just for us. The shopping was the best part, and we would have bought more had they been able to make change or accepted bills with any type of damage. But as it was, any bill that wasn't brand new, was rejected, limiting our ability to buy their goods. We also visited a school in the village, where the children sang us songs, and we taught them to dance the hokey pokey.

We spent two nights and two full days in the Amazon. If our flight hadn't been canceled, we would have spent three nights and three full days roaming around the jungle. Because of our limited time, we had limited activities. I enjoyed myself there, but I was aware of our press for time and that caused my anxiety to lash out. I would like to return someday and explore more of that mysterious world. On our boat ride back we spotted three gray river dolphins. I had really been hoping to see the pink river dolphins, but the baby gray dolphin made up for our loss by jumping out of the water, dancing for us.

link for photos

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2316867&l=64ec3&id=7908592

Peru; Paracas, Nasca

Paracas

,

We flew back to Lima, and the next morning we were on a bus to Paracas, a small coastal town on the way to Nasca. Nancy had been waiting to see Nazca for thirty years. That stretch of Peru from Lima to Nasca is right on the Pacific Ocean, but despite being next to one of the largest bodies of water in the entire world, the area is a desert. Arriving at our hotel we were greeted by our Peruvian, amazingly good, English speaking guide, who explained what this part of the journey had in store for us. We were given 20 minutes to get situated, and 45 minutes to shop before our next tour was to begin. Forty-five minutes for shopping for my shop-a-holic family is like swinging raw meat in front of a hungry lion and then taking it away before he has a chance to sink his razer-like teeth in it. Decisions are made slowly and deliberately, and the process of finding the perfect item at the best deal takes time for those of us who savor every flavor for as long as possible. We walked into the market area, and never made it past the first shop, whose jewelry was beautiful, unique and inexpensive. After being forcibly removed from the premises, we began our private tour of the National Reserve by having lunch by the seafront, surrounded by pelicans, Peruvian folk singers, and sea lions. Ceviche, a typical, and savory dish of fish cooked in lime juice, was our appetizer, followed by shark. We then split into two separate cars and made our way through the magnificent sand dunes. I don't think I ever realized before this trip, how millions and trillions of sand granules piled together, could create such outstanding beauty. I wasn't the only one who found these piles of sand irresistibly delectable; Lisa and Jon kept exclaiming how this was their favorite day because of how surprising it was to be astounded by these amazing mountains of sand, and bordered by the stunningly blue ocean. The color contrast alone was enough to throw ones visual senses into overdrive. Needless to say, picture taking became an Olympic sport, and it seemed we were all competing to see who could take the most pictures. We had a disappointing moment at the end, when the flamingos failed to show up at their designated meeting place at the designated time, but we didn't shed too many tears over it.

The following day began with the smelliest boat ride I have ever been on. Our destination, the famous Ballistas Islands. Their famous not only for their wildlife of penguins, sea lions, dolphins, and various species of birds, but also for it's valuable guano, or bird poop! You wouldn't believe the enormous bird population that chooses this island as it's favorite bathroom stop. Note the picture of Kyle with his life jacket being used not as a precautionary floating device, but a makeshift bird poo helmet.

Stepping into the boat gave one the feeling of exiting Peru and entering the country of France. If I didn't know that those two countries did not border each other, let alone cannot be found on the same continent, I might have actually believed the change in countries occurred in this city of Paracas. You might wonder, why I found myself confused as to what country I was in. It was due to the amount of French invading the airwaves as we scurried to our seats on the left side of the boat. The musical notes of the French language glided gracefully through the air, past our noses and skimmed the waters surface before surrendering to the depths of the ocean. The words with their musical yet harsh sounds were almost palpable, creating a forcefield around our motorboat. But alas, the smell of bird poop defeated the French bubble at it's very molecular infrastructure propelling the bonjours, j'taimes, and ouis out to sea with the pelicans.

After the viewing the jumping dolphins, sea lions fighting and lazily lounging, and dodging stink bombs, we headed out of our little beloved beach town of Paracas to Hual... We ate a delicious, but more cautious lunch, considering some of us, Lisa, had gotten sick, from an unknown source. Our goal for the day: cover our entire bodies from head to toe in sand. Of course we didn't know it was our goal until we had already achieved it. After laughing at our our sole-toothed, bad, but high-spirited magician who entertained us as we ate, we headed out to the sand dunes. Sand boarding was the name of the game for the day, but before we could get good and dirty in the sand, we had to find the highest dunes. This meant a dune buggy ride at speeds of 60 miles per hour or more. Similar in feel and speed to a roller coaster, the youngens screamed with delight while the queens screamed for a merciful end. A constant verbal battle began aimed at the badgered and confused driver, who by the way only spoke spanish, to both slow down and speed up at the same time. I was torn between slowing down and speeding up myself because I loved the speed and the exhilaration of traveling at mach 3 down the hills of sand, but the bumpiness of the ride concerned me because of my mother's ailing back. Arriving at our first hill, I was overcome with laughter at the crazed look of the queens, and was almost surprised that they didn't kiss the sand as they climbed out of machine that seemed to endangered their lives. Sand boarding was simple, lay with your stomach on the board, keep your mouth closed and let gravity do the rest. The first trip, I was a bit intimidated and found myself using my feet as brakes for almost the entire length of the ride. After a couple of trips however, I worked up the nerve to save the brakes for the end. Lisa was only able to ride once because her stomach was bothering her. And Jonathan and Kyle both attempted the standing position, finding themselves face first in sand after only a few seconds.

Nasca

Arriving to our hotel in Nasca, we attempted to rid ourselves of the castaway sand from our adventures in the dunes, but even after showering, sand was found stored in secret compartments, such as the creases in the ears, for the next couple of days. Our hotel was beautiful, but we were almost to exhausted to enjoy it. We dined in the hotel, after a walk around the shanty town of Nasca, and went straight to bed. Our flight over the mysterious Nasca lines was early in the morning. The massive figures carved into the cracked desert earth are only visible by air, which is one of the many mysteries as to why these earth drawings were created in the first place. The most popular theory now, besides that aliens are responsible, is that they are a grid system pointing to water. What do people in the desert want most? Water is the answer. The drawings are the main attraction, but there are lines as well all of over the desert floor. It is thought that the lines were the grid system while the drawings were an attempt to please the gods. Which would explain why, they would make drawings that can only be enjoyed by air.

After our flight, we headed to the cemetery 30 minutes outside of Nasca. When I had read about this cemetery, I had imagined grave tombs, which would only be mildly interesting to me, and flat out boring to Lisa and Jonathan. But instead of grave tombs we found preserved skeletons, dressed in the clothes they were buried in, placed in the fetal position, and surrounded by their valuables. Of course before the Peruvian government decided to make it a national site with protections, grave robbers had already visited and stolen almost everything with value. Besides the robbing, they also confused what bodies and/or skulls belonged in what tomb. Of course the most important members of the community had the most belongings, but they were also ....

The part of the day, that I looked forward to the most, was the seven hour bus ride from Nasca to Lima to stay in our favorite noisy hotel. Sometimes sarcasm is difficult to hear on paper, so I am just going to freely admit my sarcastic intention now. We were lucky enough to have reclining chairs with leg rests, one meal, and three movies, so I really shouldn't complain too much. But it is difficult not to go stark raving mad after riding on a bus for that amount of time.

JUL28:












more photos at

http://utexas.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2311564&l=84462&id=7908592


JUL28:

Peru; Cusco and Machu Picchu

Cusco

JUL28:

The following morning, we found ourselves on another airplane headed towards our last destination as a family, Cusco. We were warned of the dangers of altitude sickness beforehand, and therefore took preventative pills prescribed from our doctors back in the States. The pills however made our entire bodies tingly and didn't actually seem to prevent the effects from the ungodly lack of oxygen in the air. How people function with less than half the oxygen we are accustomed to, is a mystery to me. My poor mother was hit first and hardest, and fell to the comforts of her bed almost immediately. We were all given coca tea, to alleviate the effects, and we were told by our cousin Kelly not to walk too much. However, we were all feeling the crunch of time, since we only had one day in Cusco, one day for the Sacred Valley and one day for Machu Pichu, we couldn't possibly spend our one and only day in the adorable town of Cusco horizontal. We attempted napping, which in actuality was not too difficult of a task considering the speed of our traveling,and arose, ready for shopping. We did not venture far, and walked little, heeding the advice of our wise cousin. Bargaining or trickery soared to a new high after I refused to buy a painting for $10 from a young boy sitting on the church steps. He then offered two for the price of one, followed by three paintings for $1, until he was finally offering me 6 paintings for $1. I didn't buy from him, because something about that offer, hmmmm I wonder what, made me suspicious. We attempted and succeeded in our own bargaining feats that day, and went home very proud of our improving skills. My mom however, who had projectile vomited her coca tea, was not so excited to hear of our achievements or view our fun souvenirs.

Our evening was a flash of colors, Peruvian song, dance, with rich and flavorful food. We treated ourselves to an evening of Peruvian culture and a fantastic full buffet complete with Alpaca meat and genie pig with claws and all. We walked ten to fifteen minutes home because it seemed too short of a ride for the hassle of a taxi, but that mistake, cost Nancy a peaceful evenings rest, and awarded her the joys of altitude sickness. The following morning we dressed and were out the door for our tour of the Sacred Valley. We were told to meet our van in front of the main Cathedral. Out of character, we arrived early and sat waiting on the steps of the church in the beautiful town square. After a few minutes of waiting however, the policia informed us that we were waiting in the wrong location because all of the tours left from the next street over. We lazily stood up and meandered over to where we had been directed. There were several buses lined on this street, but no church. Walking was still an effort in the oxygen deprived air, so Kyle I volunteered to walk further down the street to the smaller church, to see if that was where we were supposed to be. On our way, we ran into a business man opening shop. He kindly offered to call the number on the receipt to find out the true location of our meeting point. After a few minutes, he informed us that our number didn't connect with who we needed to speak with, and the people he had spoken with, were imbeciles. Glancing at my watch I began to panic. We thanked the man, and ran as quickly as we could to find the family. The family was sitting on the steps of a building in front of the buses deciding whether to buy gloves from a walking vendor. I, however, was in panic mode, because we were already late to this appointment that we had arrived early for. I ran back to the place we had been told to wait originally, after looking around frantically, heard the voice of an angel. In actuality, it was just a regular man's voice calling out in a thick Spanish accent,“Sanders Family,” but the words, being shouted, outside of a church and was my holy grail for the day, I nearly cried with happiness. I had been in a frenzied state of agitation, that we would miss our tour to the Sacred Valley and by the grace of God and by the help of an angel/Peruvian man, we were not left to wander the streets of Cusco. We hopped in the van, and drove in search of our lost family.

The tour was from 9am to 5pm covering several small towns, Inca ruins, demonstrations on how Peruvian hand-crafts were made, breath-taking scenery, and of course, shopping! Our guide of this particular tour, was my least favorite because of the dullness that seemed to resound in the vibrations of his vocal chords. He lacked the enthusiasm for teaching about his ancestors that many of the other guides had demonstrated. Our first stop was two-fold, picture taking and shopping. Our second stop was a hike to the Inca ruins. The queens stayed in the market area, fearing any exertion would cause the evil sickness of the mountains to re-emerge. And, in fact, what looked like a simple hike took the energy and oxygen that I would imagine running a marathon would take. Even Lisa, the energizer bunny, who never runs out of energy or breath, was winded by this deceivingly difficult feat. After our buffet lunch, we headed to the Pisac market, which is one of the largest and most famous of the Peruvian markets and given 15 minutes to shop if we wanted to hike and see the Inca ruins. My desire to view the ruins was overruled by my desire to shop. Shopping in this fantastic market for only fifteen minutes would be equivalent to Mission Impossible, however unlike Tom Cruise, I would not be successful. There is an electric current that is stimulated when that perfect find is discovered and the best price possible is decided upon. I love the thrill of it all, the searching, digging, bargaining and buying. A good deal is always so satisfying. However, my poor mother didn't have the heart for the bargaining. She wanted to give the vendors what she thought they deserved, even though she could buy fewer things with this method. I tried to explain, by bargaining and saving money, we were able to spread out the wealth throughout all of Peru, but unless Kyle and I were there, she wouldn't or couldn't bargain. So we shopped, and we shopped some more until we almost hit our breaking point of “shopped-out,” but alas, you can't keep our family down long.

Machu Picchu

The following morning we boarded a train to Machu Picchu Pueblo. The cute little town is like a holding pen for tourists waiting to discover the wonder and mystery of one of the seven wonders of the world. We walked around town, ate, and rested for our day the following morning. At four thirty the following morning a knock was sounded on our door. Mistaking the hotel staff for my mom, I yelled “Thank you” in my sweetest morning voice possible, which is probably as nice as a lions roar. After we had dressed and made our way down to breakfast, Lisa informed us that not only had she made the same mistake, but had also used her sweetest morning voice to acknowledge the annoyingness of being woken at such an ungodly hour. Before the sun had woken up, we were walking to the bus depot to stand in line with hundreds of other tourists from all over the world. It was like a world convention, except without translators, intercommunication or cooperation. The bus ride was magnificent, yet terrifying. There was only room for one bus on the staggering mountain road at a time, there for if two buses were trying to pass each other, one would have to stop and back up (on the narrow mountain road thousands of miles high) to a spot that would allow for two buses.

Walking into the gates, of Machu Picchu, the air of grandeur floats in the wisps of clouds concealing the entire structure from view, keeping it's secrets hidden from the human eye. For many people Machu Picchu is the sole reason for coming to Peru. What is so special about Machu Picchu, you might ask? It is important to note, that although it is considered to be one of the seven wonders of the world now, to the Inca culture, it was no more important than any of their other Inca sites. What makes Machu Picchu special to the world now, is it's awe-inspiring location and the amazing preservation of this spectacular archaeological site. Surrounded by lush green mountains, what could be considered a pile of rocks to some, is a magical and mysterious door into an ancient and advanced culture. Llamas wondered the premises as we gazed upon gray rocks structures, that at one time were purposeful building. We sat and gazed, trying to imagine what it once looked like, hundreds of years ago. The sun lazily rose from it's bed of mountains, and sent rays of gold to illuminate this already stunning site. After we were done staring, we walked through the site, along side the llamas, to learn more about it's history. When our tour was over, we left the gates to use the restroom because there were no restrooms within the gates. The queens stayed outside, but were still able to enjoy the view from afar, while Jonathan, Lisa, Kyle and I hiked to the Sun Gate. A smaller, yet higher archaeological site, with a fantastic view of Machu Picchu. We returned tired, satisfied and ready to return home.

The train ride back into Cusco was longer than the ride into Machu Picchu Pueblo even though it covered the same distance. We were therefore entertained by a strange clown/mime with a stuffed animal llama, followed by an impromptu fashion show by the train staff. We decided that maybe being a train attendant was a foot in the door to a career in modeling. Our last night together was anti-climatic seeing as the queens were too tired to go out to dinner and retreated to their beds while Kyle, Lisa and I went to dinner. Jonathan after our day at Machu Picchu was attacked by traveler's sickness and also took to bed. I mention this dinner, not because the food was fantastic, or the conversation original, because honestly we were all ready for bed, but because it was a good example of a constant issue we ran into throughout our journey of Peru. After we ate, we received the check for 30 soles. We gave the waiter a 50 soles, and were curtly informed that they couldn't change a bill that high, so late in the evening. This was very confusing for me because, I would think that at the end of the day, a business would have more change. We didn't have any other bills, so they grudgingly accepted it. A minute later, we see one of the workers storming out of the restaurant obviously off to find someone who could provide change.

When it was time for us to leave in the morning, we were tired, exhausted and sad to say goodbye to our family. It had been a crazy adventure, full of mishaps, and general insanity, but without those elements, this story, and our trip would have much less interesting. I love my family and genuinely enjoy spending time with them and I will always cherish our trip to Peru. But unlike our family, Kyle and I were not finished with our journey....

Cusco

The following morning, we found ourselves on another airplane headed towards our last destination as a family, Cusco. We were warned of the dangers of altitude sickness beforehand, and therefore took preventative pills prescribed from our doctors back in the States. The pills however made our entire bodies tingly and didn't actually seem to prevent the effects from the ungodly lack of oxygen in the air. How people function with less than half the oxygen we are accustomed to, is a mystery to me. My poor mother was hit first and hardest, and fell to the comforts of her bed almost immediately. We were all given coca tea, to alleviate the effects, and we were told by our cousin Kelly not to walk too much. However, we were all feeling the crunch of time, since we only had one day in Cusco, one day for the Sacred Valley and one day for Machu Pichu, we couldn't possibly spend our one and only day in the adorable town of Cusco horizontal. We attempted napping, which in actuality was not too difficult of a task considering the speed of our traveling,and arose, ready for shopping. We did not venture far, and walked little, heeding the advice of our wise cousin. Bargaining or trickery soared to a new high after I refused to buy a painting for $10 from a young boy sitting on the church steps. He then offered two for the price of one, followed by three paintings for $1, until he was finally offering me 6 paintings for $1. I didn't buy from him, because something about that offer, hmmmm I wonder what, made me suspicious. We attempted and succeeded in our own bargaining feats that day, and went home very proud of our improving skills. My mom however, who had projectile vomited her coca tea, was not so excited to hear of our achievements or view our fun souvenirs.

Our evening was a flash of colors, Peruvian song, dance, with rich and flavorful food. We treated ourselves to an evening of Peruvian culture and a fantastic full buffet complete with Alpaca meat and genie pig with claws and all. We walked ten to fifteen minutes home because it seemed too short of a ride for the hassle of a taxi, but that mistake, cost Nancy a peaceful evenings rest, and awarded her the joys of altitude sickness. The following morning we dressed and were out the door for our tour of the Sacred Valley. We were told to meet our van in front of the main Cathedral. Out of character, we arrived early and sat waiting on the steps of the church in the beautiful town square. After a few minutes of waiting however, the policia informed us that we were waiting in the wrong location because all of the tours left from the next street over. We lazily stood up and meandered over to where we had been directed. There were several buses lined on this street, but no church. Walking was still an effort in the oxygen deprived air, so Kyle I volunteered to walk further down the street to the smaller church, to see if that was where we were supposed to be. On our way, we ran into a business man opening shop. He kindly offered to call the number on the receipt to find out the true location of our meeting point. After a few minutes, he informed us that our number didn't connect with who we needed to speak with, and the people he had spoken with, were imbeciles. Glancing at my watch I began to panic. We thanked the man, and ran as quickly as we could to find the family. The family was sitting on the steps of a building in front of the buses deciding whether to buy gloves from a walking vendor. I, however, was in panic mode, because we were already late to this appointment that we had arrived early for. I ran back to the place we had been told to wait originally, after looking around frantically, heard the voice of an angel. In actuality, it was just a regular man's voice calling out in a thick Spanish accent,“Sanders Family,” but the words, being shouted, outside of a church and was my holy grail for the day, I nearly cried with happiness. I had been in a frenzied state of agitation, that we would miss our tour to the Sacred Valley and by the grace of God and by the help of an angel/Peruvian man, we were not left to wander the streets of Cusco. We hopped in the van, and drove in search of our lost family.

The tour was from 9am to 5pm covering several small towns, Inca ruins, demonstrations on how Peruvian hand-crafts were made, breath-taking scenery, and of course, shopping! Our guide of this particular tour, was my least favorite because of the dullness that seemed to resound in the vibrations of his vocal chords. He lacked the enthusiasm for teaching about his ancestors that many of the other guides had demonstrated. Our first stop was two-fold, picture taking and shopping. Our second stop was a hike to the Inca ruins. The queens stayed in the market area, fearing any exertion would cause the evil sickness of the mountains to re-emerge. And, in fact, what looked like a simple hike took the energy and oxygen that I would imagine running a marathon would take. Even Lisa, the energizer bunny, who never runs out of energy or breath, was winded by this deceivingly difficult feat. After our buffet lunch, we headed to the Pisac market, which is one of the largest and most famous of the Peruvian markets and given 15 minutes to shop if we wanted to hike and see the Inca ruins. My desire to view the ruins was overruled by my desire to shop. Shopping in this fantastic market for only fifteen minutes would be equivalent to Mission Impossible, however unlike Tom Cruise, I would not be successful. There is an electric current that is stimulated when that perfect find is discovered and the best price possible is decided upon. I love the thrill of it all, the searching, digging, bargaining and buying. A good deal is always so satisfying. However, my poor mother didn't have the heart for the bargaining. She wanted to give the vendors what she thought they deserved, even though she could buy fewer things with this method. I tried to explain, by bargaining and saving money, we were able to spread out the wealth throughout all of Peru, but unless Kyle and I were there, she wouldn't or couldn't bargain. So we shopped, and we shopped some more until we almost hit our breaking point of “shopped-out,” but alas, you can't keep our family down long.

Machu Picchu

The following morning we boarded a train to Machu Picchu Pueblo. The cute little town is like a holding pen for tourists waiting to discover the wonder and mystery of one of the seven wonders of the world. We walked around town, ate, and rested for our day the following morning. At four thirty the following morning a knock was sounded on our door. Mistaking the hotel staff for my mom, I yelled “Thank you” in my sweetest morning voice possible, which is probably as nice as a lions roar. After we had dressed and made our way down to breakfast, Lisa informed us that not only had she made the same mistake, but had also used her sweetest morning voice to acknowledge the annoyingness of being woken at such an ungodly hour. Before the sun had woken up, we were walking to the bus depot to stand in line with hundreds of other tourists from all over the world. It was like a world convention, except without translators, intercommunication or cooperation. The bus ride was magnificent, yet terrifying. There was only room for one bus on the staggering mountain road at a time, there for if two buses were trying to pass each other, one would have to stop and back up (on the narrow mountain road thousands of miles high) to a spot that would allow for two buses.

Walking into the gates, of Machu Picchu, the air of grandeur floats in the wisps of clouds concealing the entire structure from view, keeping it's secrets hidden from the human eye. For many people Machu Picchu is the sole reason for coming to Peru. What is so special about Machu Picchu, you might ask? It is important to note, that although it is considered to be one of the seven wonders of the world now, to the Inca culture, it was no more important than any of their other Inca sites. What makes Machu Picchu special to the world now, is it's awe-inspiring location and the amazing preservation of this spectacular archaeological site. Surrounded by lush green mountains, what could be considered a pile of rocks to some, is a magical and mysterious door into an ancient and advanced culture. Llamas wondered the premises as we gazed upon gray rocks structures, that at one time were purposeful building. We sat and gazed, trying to imagine what it once looked like, hundreds of years ago. The sun lazily rose from it's bed of mountains, and sent rays of gold to illuminate this already stunning site. After we were done staring, we walked through the site, along side the llamas, to learn more about it's history. When our tour was over, we left the gates to use the restroom because there were no restrooms within the gates. The queens stayed outside, but were still able to enjoy the view from afar, while Jonathan, Lisa, Kyle and I hiked to the Sun Gate. A smaller, yet higher archaeological site, with a fantastic view of Machu Picchu. We returned tired, satisfied and ready to return home.

The train ride back into Cusco was longer than the ride into Machu Picchu Pueblo even though it covered the same distance. We were therefore entertained by a strange clown/mime with a stuffed animal llama, followed by an impromptu fashion show by the train staff. We decided that maybe being a train attendant was a foot in the door to a career in modeling. Our last night together was anti-climatic seeing as the queens were too tired to go out to dinner and retreated to their beds while Kyle, Lisa and I went to dinner. Jonathan after our day at Machu Picchu was attacked by traveler's sickness and also took to bed. I mention this dinner, not because the food was fantastic, or the conversation original, because honestly we were all ready for bed, but because it was a good example of a constant issue we ran into throughout our journey of Peru. After we ate, we received the check for 30 soles. We gave the waiter a 50 soles, and were curtly informed that they couldn't change a bill that high, so late in the evening. This was very confusing for me because, I would think that at the end of the day, a business would have more change. We didn't have any other bills, so they grudgingly accepted it. A minute later, we see one of the workers storming out of the restaurant obviously off to find someone who could provide change.

When it was time for us to leave in the morning, we were tired, exhausted and sad to say goodbye to our family. It had been a crazy adventure, full of mishaps, and general insanity, but without those elements, this story, and our trip would have much less interesting. I love my family and genuinely enjoy spending time with them and I will always cherish our trip to Peru. But unlike our family, Kyle and I were not finished with our journey....

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Peru; Lake Titicaca and Colca Canyon

Lake Titicaca
After Cusco we got on a very nice bus with a funny British couple in front of us. The tour was very nice and enjoyable. It was a much nicer way to drive 7 hours. We stopped at several Inca ruins and a church and had a wonderful paid for lunch. We drove through Hulicaca which is a hole in the earth that should not exist and spent the night in a wonderful hotel in Puno. It was cold so we opted for eating in the hotel, which was reasonable and did not require facing the cold. It was kind of a funny ordeal because we got all bundled up, made it downstairs and realized we didn't have to leave if we didn't want to, so we ran back up stairs to take off our under layers!
Lake Titicaca is the highest lake in the world and even a higher altitude than Cusco. The days were warm, but the evenings cold, colder than Cusco. We had our own individual guide, which was kind of weird, I would have rather gone in a group. But he was really informative and spoke English well. He also sometimes had a spittle on the middle of his lip that bothered me, (just thought I would throw that little funny detail in there.) Before we made our 3 and a half our journey to the island from Puno, we stopped on a floating reed island. I am still baffled as to why they exist when there seem to be plenty of land islands completely uninhabited. Why would someone go to all the trouble to make an island out of reeds when there are already perfectly good islands?? Either way, it was amazing to stand on this island constructed of strung together reeds, pulled from the lake. Stepping onto the island, I could feel the reeds squishing underneath my shoes, and jumped just a little to see if I would bounce. The reeds were cushy, but firmly held. After constructing islands out of their main food source, the reeds, they also built houses on top of their floating land mass. I just couldn't believe how these people lived on this flammable moonwalk like islands. Kyle and I sat down to listen to the details of how these islands were constructed, and we were baffled. As I mentioned before, we were the only ones in the tour, and so when our question and answer session was over, the islander set up shop. But we were the only two people to whom the 7 islanders were trying to sell their hand-crafted goods. We had already spent so much money, we hadn't planned on buying anything else, but we decided that we should buy at least one thing to support this unique community. I am afraid we cannot release the information of what we bought because it will be a gift, but it was beautiful.
The actual island that we stayed on however, was not a reed island but a land island and was stunning. The food was fresh from the sea, too bad altitude sickness grabbed control of my stomach! The day we arrived was the beginning of a 10 day dancing festival dedicated to their patron saint. The men and women, dressed in colorful costumes complete with feather hats, jumped around, consumed beer, and chanted. Some of them walked around barefoot, and they all desperately needed to see a dentist. While sitting and watching the spectacle, a little girl under the age of two waddled over to me and decided to try and make a bracelet out of the plastic string she had been mouthing. After tying it around my wrist for a while, and coughing on me, she gave up and left.
The only time I experienced the full miserable effects of altitude sickness was the evening we spent in Lake Titicaca. Lets just say, I don't want to relive that evening. I had taken the medicine for the last couple of days but didn't take it for the evening. I thought I would be acclimated to the altitude after 4 days, but in the middle of the night with the air basically frozen, I crawled out from under my four wool blankets and attempted to put my pants on unsuccessfully, because I had to run outside to throw up over the balcony before I could even cloth myself. Our room was just a room with two single beds and a candle. Toilets were provided, but in rooms the size of boxes outside the bedroom complete with large windows so anyone could look in. They were downstairs and around the corner, an impossible destination for my left over food. Because there was neither electricity or running water, the toilets were not emptied till the morning and were worse than port-a-potties. In the morning instead of being woken by the crowing of a rooster, the baby calf outside our window, started mooing. I got a really cute picture of him, but Kyle didn't find him so cute as an unwanted alarm clock.
Colca Canyon

We made our way back to Puno and the next day headed to Arequipa. I am quite disappointed that we didnt actually see Arequipa, the city. Our bus arrived late in the evening providing enough time for us to dine at an Italian restaurant with a blind accordion player to serenade us. Early the next morning after breakfasting in what seemed like France, once again, we left on our guided tour of Colca Canyon. The group we were with was really interesting. There were four Italians, 3 Belgians, a Bronx high school teacher who was very talkative and funny, and a couple that lived in Princeton New Jersey. Before that couple entered the van, Kyle after discovering the countries we were all from, proclaimed that to complete the coverage of four corners we needed someone from Australia. When the couple entered the car, we immediately asked where they were from and discovered that they lived in New Jersey, however, the husband had grown up in Australia. The four corners of the world had been covered in this small van, we were ecstatic. Obviously, it doesn't take much for us to be entertained.

Our guide began our journey providing excellent information in both Spanish and English however half way to our destination our guides knee that had been injured not to long before the trip, starting acting up. It swelled, causing him so much pain, he couldn't speak, and we had to speed to Colca Canyon as fast as legally possible so that he could find a doctor. Having an allergy to almost all pain medication, we were unable to provide anything but sympathy. However the confusion about what the tour provided and in what order began once we had arrived in Colca Canyon and had left our English speaking guide. Our Spanish driver who was obviously not a guide, but a very good driver,had understood our plans for the rest of day to be very different than what the rest of us had understood. After much negotiation, we ate lunch and headed for a short rest to our individual hotels. We rested, and walked around the area of our seemingly hidden hotel, tucked away in the mountains. The thermal baths were our next stop, and were warm, but very crowded with Peruvians. One of the baths was outside, in the freezing mountain air, but the water made it bearable. Dinner included folklore dancing. I was especially taken with the dance that told the story of two lovers eating an apple and dying, but were revived after they were beaten with a whip by their mourning lover.
The morning began with a drive to see the Andean condors. When we arrived, two Condors had given a great spectacle, but flew off before our arrival. After waiting for forty-five minutes, I feared that we would miss the flight of the spectacular condor, but my fear was not realized. The Andean condors, which are actually vultures, are birds with wing spans as long 10 feet, and are graceful, magnificent creatures. They began their flights low, but soon glided on the air without flapping their wings, and allowed the wind to lift them to outstanding heights. They flew over and around us, and even posed on a rock near us, as if condoning the taking of pictures.

Peru was a magnificent journey and I feel so blessed to have been given the opportunity to explore it.

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Baby Dinosaurio has entered the World

Announcement:
I am pleased to announce Pablo Felipe "Dinosaurio" has graced this world as of Friday July 27th. He was three kilos, which is about 6 lbs, and as hairy as a little monkey. He has lots of nicknames at this point including, monito (little monkey) because of his hairiness, yoda, because of his funny noises, and Dinosaurio because of how he looked in his sonogram. He is a very tranquilo child, who almost never crys, and looks around very seriously all of the time. So far his activity level is limited to sleeping, eating and pooping. Even the way he poops is adorable because of the way he scrunches up his face, and then afterwards makes an "O" face. The family would like to thank everybody for their gifts, they were really overwhelmed and thankful. I am including a couple of pictures and their will be more updates later, when he is a little more interesting!