tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25543236317933703362024-02-19T02:51:37.543-08:00Wander to PonderReading this blog will be like eating a shit sandwich compared to hanging out with me. But hey, it's the closest thing you got!Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-49165469716611793502010-08-10T21:07:00.001-07:002010-08-12T11:21:25.211-07:00Arequipa<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPyzNGhJi7hNfvIiZvO9aa4L8Kn6f8_De7izl1CCE3Qd8oW05D-o4A9Ougy1buXrJXflUYgsVyCtyMEolvmXYE-K_zZ7poauCUi3K0Si0-RnwXHnQeMQ9mA_Pgt8v6X0LsuITLoiKJbTF/s1600/IMG_3519.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPyzNGhJi7hNfvIiZvO9aa4L8Kn6f8_De7izl1CCE3Qd8oW05D-o4A9Ougy1buXrJXflUYgsVyCtyMEolvmXYE-K_zZ7poauCUi3K0Si0-RnwXHnQeMQ9mA_Pgt8v6X0LsuITLoiKJbTF/s320/IMG_3519.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503996041701999554" /></a><br /><br />...And so my time in Cusco came to an end. I hugged the fam goodbye and hopped on the night bus. My next long-term stop? The rainforest outside of Iquitos. But first I decided to spend a few days in Arequipa, Peru's second largest city and a hub for some of the country's most popular treking.<br /><br />I arrived in Arequipa early in the morning. El Misti (5,822 m), one of the volcanoes near the city, looked unreal in its massiveness as we pulled into the bus station at dawn. <br /><br />El Misti:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghBUaOMTFvDSBOK-hZxyYc4kVymwEWS45dhUfpi49R9nbtqVC59qAZYcSPSAl3qxZXDMeakIIf0nSVmnEcRAlgwzLHNizwYSGHJbt3f-HIAugCD7vBSXbpi4oQh-i6dHxY_i5tTYIK0DWm/s1600/IMG_3754.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503098161372569858" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghBUaOMTFvDSBOK-hZxyYc4kVymwEWS45dhUfpi49R9nbtqVC59qAZYcSPSAl3qxZXDMeakIIf0nSVmnEcRAlgwzLHNizwYSGHJbt3f-HIAugCD7vBSXbpi4oQh-i6dHxY_i5tTYIK0DWm/s320/IMG_3754.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I was tired and needed a place to stay, so I asked a cab driver to take me to a cheap hostel. He took me to one. <br /><br />I was greeted by a nice enough fellow by the name of Nacho. I felt bad for dragging Nacho out of bed at this hour. Nacho's breathe smelled like a butthole that morning. Things were never quite right between us.<br /><br />It was a pretty comfortable hostel right near the center of the city. This may have been a mistake. The city of Arequipa is large, busy and polluted. The pollution really bothered me. I thought it was even worse than Lima. A Lima cab driver has since informed me that I'm full of shit. Either way it was bad.<br /><br />The city is also beautiful, mainly because of the aforementioned volcanoes that rise above the skyline. It's charming, especially for a big city, but without these mountains Arequipa would be in serious danger of sucking.<br /><br />When I left the states, I decided to pretend like I was McGiver and hide cash in a few different places within my stuff. Most of it got stolen in Arequipa. It was either some Argentinians or shit-breathe Nacho that did it. I'll never know so it's not worth speculating further. <br /><br />Despite these setbacks, I had a cheap room to myself and a few days to enjoy Arequipa. I hit the town, looking to book a few treks and find a delicious fruit juice to drink...Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-50269929754695131352010-08-10T21:06:00.002-07:002010-08-12T11:26:35.458-07:00Colca CanyonSo I booked a two-day Colca Canyon trek and a trek up El Misti, and went and had dinner. I drank a delicious mixed fruit juice. It was so delicious it seemed somehow wrong. I got back to my hotel around 9. <br /><br />They were coming to pick me up at 3am to leave for the trek, so if I got to bed right away, I'd still get a decent amount of sleep. I laid my head down, closed my eyes, and drifted softly over to the bathroom to puke my guts out. Then I peed out my butt for a while. I knew it. That fruit juice was too delicious to be true; They must have mixed it with water. Bastards.<br /><br />I continued being sick for a while, but I wasn't going to let it stop my adventure. I knew if I set my mind to it I could overcome the sickness and still make it through the trek. I truly believe the mind has the power to cure the body, plus I had already paid for my spot on the tour. <br /><br />So 3 rolled around, and I was ready to go. I got in the comfortable touristy bus-van and drifted off as we drove the few hours to the canyon. Our first stop was at Cruz del Condor, a cliffy area where condors are known to fly regularly. It was so touristly I nearly shit and puked at the same time, but it was still beautiful. <br /><br />Condor:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2niKWRPpqR3XuHZmtPVKlH0VHEHRrPDtszzxRaugmc0-xnpO__E4SiZR9MJ1OXhdmkKJwbMlIxk9kgbR5oiYh5NXWkYcDFZQckpbsjqR4G6t6fxAXb8EmgxxtuL9uV62Im8dIp6YJKAGi/s1600/IMG_3555.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504005327820373746" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2niKWRPpqR3XuHZmtPVKlH0VHEHRrPDtszzxRaugmc0-xnpO__E4SiZR9MJ1OXhdmkKJwbMlIxk9kgbR5oiYh5NXWkYcDFZQckpbsjqR4G6t6fxAXb8EmgxxtuL9uV62Im8dIp6YJKAGi/s320/IMG_3555.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Also i got to see this sign which made it worthwhile:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrosjfJXLMukH3z0mPxb1Miw0lXQyZivoPZqaUEiMBmwxRXgbKYxTW8P1SfwE1rS4Rva_Tk9zURkTaWoriVCIEIYZrS7ozDUhPX949Spoxs0XYE-C7FvO0Gr1atzIHYp_CCZJbwawlGT0/s1600/IMG_3537.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrosjfJXLMukH3z0mPxb1Miw0lXQyZivoPZqaUEiMBmwxRXgbKYxTW8P1SfwE1rS4Rva_Tk9zURkTaWoriVCIEIYZrS7ozDUhPX949Spoxs0XYE-C7FvO0Gr1atzIHYp_CCZJbwawlGT0/s320/IMG_3537.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504384998980582370" /></a><br /><br />"Don't not pass." Are you telling me I have no choice but to pass over the edge of this cliff?!<br /><br />After our allotted time at this point of interest, we were herded up to head to the departure point of our hike. Apparently, it's pretty hard to measure the depth of a canyon. Colca Canyon was once considered the deepest in the world. Estimates of its depth (that I found via google) range from 3200 to over 4100 meters. Wikipedia says it's 4160 meters deep, which I like, because it makes me look tough. Either way, it was large.<br /><br />Big ol' canyon:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJg19_NOJb04IMsqz45IWo8CYZqmkxgoKop0XnwaHy5FK6Qx6ezr14tAEBIQag3P7XCPbm5x5m2dzPwTK194cWXQhxb_eUdLTVJkkTwvcBrrIZ1X5YmvvrWiI1QAYXSfrfzXkA-jvnH2_S/s1600/IMG_3567.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504004155635441426" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJg19_NOJb04IMsqz45IWo8CYZqmkxgoKop0XnwaHy5FK6Qx6ezr14tAEBIQag3P7XCPbm5x5m2dzPwTK194cWXQhxb_eUdLTVJkkTwvcBrrIZ1X5YmvvrWiI1QAYXSfrfzXkA-jvnH2_S/s320/IMG_3567.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We started hiking. When I wasn't focused on clinching my butthole closed, the views were spectacular. Luckily this first day was spent hiking down into the bottom of the canyon, so it wasn't very physically challenging. Unless you consider keeping you sphincter fearfully flexed for a 6-hour hike challenging.<br /><br />One of the views:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2soNKAEEmvfgnpz3aahcLo_qTDsy-ZoP8HNqtjfwUXaohKMCqyoROdaNKlXPKmO_kxwGB2s7flgF9EU6oqWmw6gtEBg_YGPoEQikUyRVKN-NXUgbTUfiBOVbGd83DB2cdJPdhb3vfIjJ/s1600/IMG_3573.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2soNKAEEmvfgnpz3aahcLo_qTDsy-ZoP8HNqtjfwUXaohKMCqyoROdaNKlXPKmO_kxwGB2s7flgF9EU6oqWmw6gtEBg_YGPoEQikUyRVKN-NXUgbTUfiBOVbGd83DB2cdJPdhb3vfIjJ/s320/IMG_3573.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504389379512342242" /></a><br /><br />We got down to a hotel at the bottom of the canyon right as the sun was setting. I put down my stuff and laid down to relax, thinking the worst of my sickness had passed. Soon they called everyone to dinner, and instead I went to the bathroom to puke and then shit. Luckily I puked first, because when I did a little bit splashed up and hit me in the face. I remember thinking: "I didn't want to puke and shit myself at the same time until drinking ayahuasca!"<br /><br />The next morning was spent climbing up out of the canyon, more than 3000 meters straight up. I felt a lot better than the day before. That being said, I was dehydrated, weak, and hadn't eaten in a day, and I was still one of the first few in our group to reach the top. I'm saying this not to brag about my strength, but rather to point out and ridicule the weakness of the others. Some of them had to pay for donkeys to carry them up. You pay a bunch of money to go on a hike, then pay more money not to hike? There's one word for that: fatass. or is that two words?<br /><br />It took me about 3 hours to climb out of the canyon. By the time I was done with this, I no longer felt sick. Now I just had to wait 7 more hours for the rest of the group to arrive. I was happy for the time to rest though, and the view was gorgeous.<br /><br />Made it out alive, and without shitting my pants!:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VEqn_ktjX3yeX-DR_leMMw9ICZciWFvB-WDgIF9UuNRusf7Y1slIZ9fPxjD_cV8iujCNHuf2qFUWcW5xsuuMPnxSi9kHgVqGDO7GH1r-Dlb8JqatMVvJE3zCDUEDFgsfgH_qSlsMnAcY/s1600/IMG_3629.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504002161003640098" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VEqn_ktjX3yeX-DR_leMMw9ICZciWFvB-WDgIF9UuNRusf7Y1slIZ9fPxjD_cV8iujCNHuf2qFUWcW5xsuuMPnxSi9kHgVqGDO7GH1r-Dlb8JqatMVvJE3zCDUEDFgsfgH_qSlsMnAcY/s320/IMG_3629.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />On the way back we were stuffed into a much less comfortable van than the one we arrived in. We stopped at some hot springs, which was glorious. We got back to Arequipa late that night. <br /><br />As I had planned it, I would be leaving early the next morning to climb a 5800 meter mountain. Luckily, I'm a loner and nobody else had signed up to climb El Misti that day. There were, however, a group of guys climbing Chachani a day later, so I got to rest and recover for a day before taking on the beast. I resisted the delicious fruit drinks during my rest day.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-35889381506772689412010-08-10T21:06:00.001-07:002010-08-12T11:32:12.660-07:00ChachaniFor the second of my two treks in Arequipa, I was rested, healthy and ready to go. And this time I got to sleep in until about 6 or 7. The other 3 guys in the group were from Italy, all traveling together. One of them was already sick, so including the guide, I figured the number of people that were going to climb the mountain had shrunk from 5 to 4.<br /><br />Where we were headed:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1qUCfL3StGilyZ2-ZvTLPoDJQPGKDqg_qe7SpHlDszPXmOuUVkxnByd7CnKwzLmKZFHAhw6ksMQcnU06kXz6MRNEs89GdN2NJ4Egjur8rNWQNRasi-mKLLbuTi1_6kuf7aJSScJfPRL7t/s1600/IMG_3674.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1qUCfL3StGilyZ2-ZvTLPoDJQPGKDqg_qe7SpHlDszPXmOuUVkxnByd7CnKwzLmKZFHAhw6ksMQcnU06kXz6MRNEs89GdN2NJ4Egjur8rNWQNRasi-mKLLbuTi1_6kuf7aJSScJfPRL7t/s320/IMG_3674.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504276393206815986" /></a><br /><br />We drove a few hours up to the point where we got left off. It was about an hour hike from there to the base camp. During this hike, another of the Italians got sick. The Italians were droppin like flies. I was glad to have gotten my sickness over with during the Colca Canyon hike; I had a feeling that was a walk in the park compared to what I was about to do.<br /><br />View from base camp. Lookin stormy:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_8XzHGhm1MNHQmspCVBMvlEG0zsvp4Do8_hd7Kp8niCYAcxnhphZr5UnW2RE0rzsBZfmjNGTzcKiSscmGn7WjplNVOHIe9hVUjNpkgEiV5WKccQWzJ267YOiwlAVCm3WQvf0-2duPGX1/s1600/IMG_3693.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_8XzHGhm1MNHQmspCVBMvlEG0zsvp4Do8_hd7Kp8niCYAcxnhphZr5UnW2RE0rzsBZfmjNGTzcKiSscmGn7WjplNVOHIe9hVUjNpkgEiV5WKccQWzJ267YOiwlAVCm3WQvf0-2duPGX1/s320/IMG_3693.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504285235996555058" /></a><br /><br />Just after we got our tents set up at base camp, a nasty storm moved in. We ate dinner, which I enjoyed equally for its warmth and its sustenance. The snow and wind didn't stop all night. It was one of my coldest nights on record. Pretty miserable really.<br /><br />Ramen Noodles have never been so wonderful:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8SRFVo5-Saul1sWP2h9cJGv4XDsMoLRjMa0TSYKmmKrRBsK8qXKgXqN8pqfyPqwX-SVC7h4TtRmzGSt_5RZkkAUoaeu1v57Ihvxp54HoZpqxV5BEICugzi5MvETugmnsjPZRUP_VlY3V/s1600/IMG_3698.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8SRFVo5-Saul1sWP2h9cJGv4XDsMoLRjMa0TSYKmmKrRBsK8qXKgXqN8pqfyPqwX-SVC7h4TtRmzGSt_5RZkkAUoaeu1v57Ihvxp54HoZpqxV5BEICugzi5MvETugmnsjPZRUP_VlY3V/s320/IMG_3698.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504274186467569842" /></a><br /><br />We woke up at around 2 am to start hiking up. It was still frigid, and I was glad to start moving around to warm myself up. You guessed it: the last of the Italians bailed. I don't even think this one was sick. I think he was just cold. And maybe scared. Either way, it would be just me and the guide making the trek.<br /><br />The snow let up as we began, which was nice. The wind did not let up. After about an hour, we came to a fairly steep part of the mountain that we had to go prettymuch straight across. We weren't climbing vertically at all, but the snow was frozen prettymuch solid. The guide had to chisel out each step we took with his ice pick, which resulted in a horizontal rain shower of sharp ice shards in my face, because i was down wind from him.<br /><br />Wind-whipped terrain:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPXGY5YJ5odbHXqosBsTk0cKdx7yitmiBBZF7E32mqQak9ZHDFw_rcBuZotURcB1_P3rStxfdSxqTKFffQzDjdPCExuZgyQj3dUqvVVnZo5L_Z1Ci9li_aNuq9qdHe_Hyk-9hTJ3zlaZO/s1600/IMG_3748.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPXGY5YJ5odbHXqosBsTk0cKdx7yitmiBBZF7E32mqQak9ZHDFw_rcBuZotURcB1_P3rStxfdSxqTKFffQzDjdPCExuZgyQj3dUqvVVnZo5L_Z1Ci9li_aNuq9qdHe_Hyk-9hTJ3zlaZO/s320/IMG_3748.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504283098440981074" /></a><br /><br />Hand-picked path:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrj6swPDu60rhP_WVycsGsyadr6gpLTqCOpEzhJoN6dESxAswhD5h3lhWXpMI8_M_H8D6fVaUdlY_uelm3R2OvAqicCdm3x33BSO2_AMT_8xBWtPwDAEbX9PCrP9RdAX6U3on4J6tzZuT/s1600/IMG_3717.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrj6swPDu60rhP_WVycsGsyadr6gpLTqCOpEzhJoN6dESxAswhD5h3lhWXpMI8_M_H8D6fVaUdlY_uelm3R2OvAqicCdm3x33BSO2_AMT_8xBWtPwDAEbX9PCrP9RdAX6U3on4J6tzZuT/s320/IMG_3717.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504284528816982066" /></a><br /><br />Other than the ice shower, the main problem with this situation was the fact that we were moving really slowly. This meant my extremities were in constant danger of freezing. I had to ceaselessly clench and unclench my fists. If I forgot to do this even for a minute my hands would start to freeze. Every once in a while I'd realize a finger or two were numb and I'd have to move them back to feeling. <br /><br />I brought gloves from home, but for some reason decided to use the tour agencies gloves, so I deserved the pain. The agency also gave me crampons. They were too small for my feet. The guide tied them on with strings that looked like they came off of a pair of roller skates from the 70's. They fell of minutes after he put them on. Luckily my ice pick was legit. Around this same time, my water bottles froze, so instead of quenching my thirst, they served to add a rock-hard, ice-cold weight to my gear. It took at least an hour to make it across this part of the mountain. The sun began to rise just as we did.<br /><br />Good morning Arequipa:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Nv69XLPWp7q2TXDG1LZpebPIEDbFfu-SuvP1-dqR4E8w5Itx8hTAv8o761KJpobzOQ7pnJuw1AThEiaMMFXZ-kD_I99UuQJk1XmAzskGhClMmkdFDnKfgiNIWx2ApCo_cE1L2f7z1jIx/s1600/IMG_3708.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Nv69XLPWp7q2TXDG1LZpebPIEDbFfu-SuvP1-dqR4E8w5Itx8hTAv8o761KJpobzOQ7pnJuw1AThEiaMMFXZ-kD_I99UuQJk1XmAzskGhClMmkdFDnKfgiNIWx2ApCo_cE1L2f7z1jIx/s320/IMG_3708.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504277362364099234" /></a><br /><br />After this, we arrived at Fatima, the longest and steepest part of the climb. Fatima is a son of a cunt. I don't know how many hours it took to climb, but I know it sucked. The air was thinning. <br /><br />Light at dawn and moon over Fatima:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKxXq2fKo4dX8XVr7jVMwClECkDhEB28aIMYVXC-IWDK9OIvKvB-ne7_iVoY17xJSSOfCGOOSesCLFW3PqD0UiEMXI78RJ4s8y6PxQPhO623uyw3Y8I2QjaGDDI55jaCUKEq4yImeDJQ-/s1600/IMG_3712.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKxXq2fKo4dX8XVr7jVMwClECkDhEB28aIMYVXC-IWDK9OIvKvB-ne7_iVoY17xJSSOfCGOOSesCLFW3PqD0UiEMXI78RJ4s8y6PxQPhO623uyw3Y8I2QjaGDDI55jaCUKEq4yImeDJQ-/s320/IMG_3712.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504279275779837650" /></a><br /><br />As we got to the top of Fatima we stopped and the guide broke down the situation to me. We were running a bit behind schedule due to the weather. We had about three and a half hours until our ride was scheduled to leave base camp for Arequipa. It was another hour to the summit. It normally takes 4 hours to climb down, but he thought we could make it in two and a half. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it down in time, but I really wanted to make that mountain my bitch, so I decided to push forward and deal with the consequences of missing our ride home if and when they came. So we kept going toward the summit.<br /><br />The home stretch:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjcQt-guip7zhnuXipV6u5vERJZ4sSwlImpVYccJmxd-0JHYp3-SdOCj_DLsTbySePq7fqNF9FpaN9VfNi34mLxyh4qXoX3NUTIMJU0w6PFrw5YdtPgjhf7N54kUkYmxdmr2fx3u3b2JW/s1600/IMG_3721.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjcQt-guip7zhnuXipV6u5vERJZ4sSwlImpVYccJmxd-0JHYp3-SdOCj_DLsTbySePq7fqNF9FpaN9VfNi34mLxyh4qXoX3NUTIMJU0w6PFrw5YdtPgjhf7N54kUkYmxdmr2fx3u3b2JW/s320/IMG_3721.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504576077803399298" /></a><br /><br />The last hour was long and slow, but I was pumped to reach the top, so it was actually fun. Finally I made it, after about 7 hours total. 6075 meters high, cold, sore, breathing hard at a standstill, snot frozen solid to my face.<br /><br />Summit excitement:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHu_LYfOyxmjTlfm7gxEkm-K3HytTzINBdJG4OvztqDqZj4oLbAFIrRbGNxgsO9MY7-GxYYE50kNOltAFCe1ZV8K6s6gnMGCKZYRbLQ22rLs96FPnfp3Xe3gyC_xf1_lWCw6akRujszZ2/s1600/IMG_3727.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHu_LYfOyxmjTlfm7gxEkm-K3HytTzINBdJG4OvztqDqZj4oLbAFIrRbGNxgsO9MY7-GxYYE50kNOltAFCe1ZV8K6s6gnMGCKZYRbLQ22rLs96FPnfp3Xe3gyC_xf1_lWCw6akRujszZ2/s320/IMG_3727.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504279944427952994" /></a><br /><br />A view of El Misti from above:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRThBicLkLhg8FKRKiWIWWFG61z1qoIox6K0VyFViUGhiru6DoM8ld8SRU_0bs_SohruYgQprtXovioJDl93YFMJy-hLtJYLuUHhpTB1aZxgEUl8aU5mPhaA7myvEKysl5iqFymh93CRn/s1600/IMG_3729.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRThBicLkLhg8FKRKiWIWWFG61z1qoIox6K0VyFViUGhiru6DoM8ld8SRU_0bs_SohruYgQprtXovioJDl93YFMJy-hLtJYLuUHhpTB1aZxgEUl8aU5mPhaA7myvEKysl5iqFymh93CRn/s320/IMG_3729.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504280869320850626" /></a><br /><br />The wind was twice as bad on the summit, so we didn't stay for long. The guide started sprinting down the mountain as soon as we left. My legs were like jelly and I had a lot of trouble keeping up. It took us about 4 or 5 hours to get down. Luckily the driver and the Italians waited for us.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-64713220338041323732010-04-30T14:36:00.000-07:002010-04-30T20:53:23.489-07:00Machu PicchuIf the Lincoln, Nebraska chapter of the Burt Reynolds fan club is going to go one place in South America, it's Machu Picchu. Despite this undeniable fact, I still decided to go.<br /><br />I went with the same group that attended Antony's birthday party. Matthew, Sarah, Paria, Rhiannon and I decided that we didn't need to pay a guide to show us the way; We were gonna do it old school style. <br /><br />Initially we all planned to buy our Machu Picchu tickets in Cusco the day before leaving. I missed the memo that the plan had changed, so I was the only one with a ticket when we left. The others were hoping to buy theirs when we got to Aguas Calientes, the town just below Machu Picchu.<br /><br />We left early the next morning on a 5-6 hour bus to Santa Teresa, over a treacherous mountain pass. After that, we caught a car that was supposed to take us to Santa Maria. I never knew a station wagon could be so rugged. We drove up and down some steep and rough terrain, as well as through a pretty deep and equally sketchy river:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zgbneyndYYtEoOxf1ExeIo3rISZFat1sykNMFdhJnyyitEXvruoc0_IJJruAPejpJH47SxlUiofKFNLVEJhOnX219roiTFndX-aCO4XsUNJfeE7szltYhb_TxtsLyxpp6iqALKU8ROqM/s1600/IMG_3344.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zgbneyndYYtEoOxf1ExeIo3rISZFat1sykNMFdhJnyyitEXvruoc0_IJJruAPejpJH47SxlUiofKFNLVEJhOnX219roiTFndX-aCO4XsUNJfeE7szltYhb_TxtsLyxpp6iqALKU8ROqM/s320/IMG_3344.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466064064330860690" /></a><br /><br />The car could not take us all the way to Santa Maria; It had to stop short because a landslide had covered a large portion of the road:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-UQnNfs6az_1puTOFyP2VQCxhvf-pQQn0OJtnilUk_92KYRt53Rojc8PfMBbZrBS1TCi2C0p_TXJ_EF9bnfFb_JJZwVWezPg-huhMo3ZSEdnXSyA0D56gpQ03sIzseSWg8Hek4wPgCJF/s1600/IMG_2821.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-UQnNfs6az_1puTOFyP2VQCxhvf-pQQn0OJtnilUk_92KYRt53Rojc8PfMBbZrBS1TCi2C0p_TXJ_EF9bnfFb_JJZwVWezPg-huhMo3ZSEdnXSyA0D56gpQ03sIzseSWg8Hek4wPgCJF/s320/IMG_2821.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466061577038398354" /></a> <br /><br />When we got to this spot, there were a few dozen people waiting around on each side, as well as a crew working to clear the landslide. One hero decided he was going to walk across to the other side, and when we saw that he didn't die, everyone else followed suit... We made it across safely.<br /><br />After this, we took a van the rest of the way to Santa Maria, and then beyond toward Aguas Calientes. The van took us as far as a cable car, where we had to cross the roaring river to continue (This photo really doesn't do it justice): <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiv_KOtcE37aRxyG_qHn_NDOnt3h_4ainkXOsqidO_xbBgG4QY5n6vwIozcfQgNeVMMWVUh-gt8XRWarWfq9DjSbPsdRCkY5mLM2P2-KERsDgyTO7Bdc97qpuXRAiVh2LJGaeOghrvbYGn/s1600/IMG_3337.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiv_KOtcE37aRxyG_qHn_NDOnt3h_4ainkXOsqidO_xbBgG4QY5n6vwIozcfQgNeVMMWVUh-gt8XRWarWfq9DjSbPsdRCkY5mLM2P2-KERsDgyTO7Bdc97qpuXRAiVh2LJGaeOghrvbYGn/s320/IMG_3337.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466067287137600274" /></a><br /><br />The sun was setting as we got to the other side of the river, where we began the hike the rest of the way to Aguas Calientes. The first part of the path was on a jungle-covered mountainside adjacent to the river. <br /><br />Matthew & Sarah on the jungle path:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMX3KSddr_6ZE3hIWleVi6-tgHmIc4pEri87iU7kyO3sJszLubd4Y4HccZQ2b1XabJOiEf4D4FaZ65tN5nOFdlkjc4q9Ebp2CYwA_3hyb7MQ5YmZAeu9mYwTcSDFkBRAYr9kcmfC7xTgF/s1600/IMG_2854.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMX3KSddr_6ZE3hIWleVi6-tgHmIc4pEri87iU7kyO3sJszLubd4Y4HccZQ2b1XabJOiEf4D4FaZ65tN5nOFdlkjc4q9Ebp2CYwA_3hyb7MQ5YmZAeu9mYwTcSDFkBRAYr9kcmfC7xTgF/s320/IMG_2854.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466143403755093042" /></a><br /><br />A jungle plant in the fading light of dusk:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGthId8ifqaGa8fnTUx-k39a1qfKG8esa4OyI7j8Byr5oKF5j0v39idOXIiUL4H6ZZOoXUENTDZRbmb1pbOW9y2hQTq2NMiUD3Rf-r5q37J8fHRNsqugINYZkb0CeWx72u5J4uyVsSkdt/s1600/IMG_2853.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGthId8ifqaGa8fnTUx-k39a1qfKG8esa4OyI7j8Byr5oKF5j0v39idOXIiUL4H6ZZOoXUENTDZRbmb1pbOW9y2hQTq2NMiUD3Rf-r5q37J8fHRNsqugINYZkb0CeWx72u5J4uyVsSkdt/s320/IMG_2853.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466069225975387682" /></a><br /><br />We walked for a few hours on this path in the dark, and eventually saw signs of civilization in the distance (i.e. lights). We got off the mountain thinking we were really close, but the lights we approached were not Aguas Calientes but a hydro-electric plant - we still had a few more hours to go!<br /><br />After the hydro-electric plant we walked along railroad tracks the rest of the way. After a few minutes it started to rain. At many points, there were little streams or larger rivers flowing down the mountain into the big river. At these places, we had to cross bringes, during which we would have to walk on the railroad ties, with flowing water between/beneath them:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ooO0T8VH14V77RTXosVj0a9Z23TRyRP2vL7rbhweYDRaWpqYAe2-3txCvK85-eMC0lYpHqd6o65mkGz3tNltjpv0Y3br9WlDpEGS8kz-H3sNX5XbeX8pNCu4-Mu3Y0Fhmn4IfB_aSSuC/s1600/IMG_3246.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ooO0T8VH14V77RTXosVj0a9Z23TRyRP2vL7rbhweYDRaWpqYAe2-3txCvK85-eMC0lYpHqd6o65mkGz3tNltjpv0Y3br9WlDpEGS8kz-H3sNX5XbeX8pNCu4-Mu3Y0Fhmn4IfB_aSSuC/s320/IMG_3246.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466137970325786114" /></a><br /><br />One bridge was particularly long, and invoked terror in one member of our group who will remain nameless. It took a few minutes to cross, with certain death looming between each step:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwcWPMw_5wwQGtOaxlhlCw4V2-JChVSt_bZ6odlLxnupSZL2cawJdbTyetx6eaYiDX8foPiaJrPtdhen63QUZSTIZ8-VQi44nRszcJmwOWWHhS1kAHh2wuwGlWk4OOaBEMdHJ6JgR55OJ/s1600/IMG_3284.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwcWPMw_5wwQGtOaxlhlCw4V2-JChVSt_bZ6odlLxnupSZL2cawJdbTyetx6eaYiDX8foPiaJrPtdhen63QUZSTIZ8-VQi44nRszcJmwOWWHhS1kAHh2wuwGlWk4OOaBEMdHJ6JgR55OJ/s320/IMG_3284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466071007598935730" /></a><br /><br />Nobody fell. We had a few slips and trips along the way, but luckily no injuries.<br /><br />We made it to Aguas Calientes around 11 p.m. Unfortunately, the ticket office was closed and the others could not get tickets for the next day. So I was going to Machu Picchu alone. Initially, I was pretty pissed off. We found a hotel and I laid my head down for about 3 hours of sleep.<br /><br />I popped up seconds before my alarm went off. I was energized and my attitude had completely changed. I was actually happy to be experiencing Machu Picchu alone. It allowed me to go my own pace and do whatever I wanted the whole day. I started the walk toward the mystical ruins in the dark, with the mighty river raging next to me. <br /><br />I crossed the river and began the ascent of Machu Picchu. This consists of steep stone staircases through the jungle, which cross the path of a road that's ruled by buses later in the day.<br /><br />A shot of the road to Machu Picchu (The path cuts up the middle):<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCXvgZn-A4r3x5CmyXDFwMrrKBueUDQ0fIdzGhV35IWeBWmOj9CqStTJpVwzqD549en7Pd8scdoPvNgMxlrqezlo72CjHoSTzDSCvLHPAkFk-K6SpJoXfgMAkdgfnAyUgM3iaok8BmVCm/s1600/IMG_3101.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCXvgZn-A4r3x5CmyXDFwMrrKBueUDQ0fIdzGhV35IWeBWmOj9CqStTJpVwzqD549en7Pd8scdoPvNgMxlrqezlo72CjHoSTzDSCvLHPAkFk-K6SpJoXfgMAkdgfnAyUgM3iaok8BmVCm/s320/IMG_3101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466120404469903842" /></a><br /><br />I made it up to the entrance at about 5:15, and it doesn't open until 6. The wait wasn't long though, and when it did open, I was one of the first 20 people in. <br /><br />The first hour or so in Machu Picchu, I was prettymuch inside a cloud. Some people complained about this, but I thought it was one of the coolest parts!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VOtjRdGE2rV9RYreqBhQY8-aESM0dbU8NrXMkAZOmkYvA35vvUgliIfMljQ6CaI8Xob-0DONh0es094Hq8hqPdNOtzz3idD6G0PIh5ncNEhGqP5AB345XrsKCknipMiUvs5qjPWOzESB/s1600/IMG_2868.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VOtjRdGE2rV9RYreqBhQY8-aESM0dbU8NrXMkAZOmkYvA35vvUgliIfMljQ6CaI8Xob-0DONh0es094Hq8hqPdNOtzz3idD6G0PIh5ncNEhGqP5AB345XrsKCknipMiUvs5qjPWOzESB/s320/IMG_2868.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466072880536964610" /></a><br /><br />After a few hours, the weather started to clear up, and eventually the sun came out. It was amazing to see all of the details of the place come to life.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv8lRvJFxSO8H28XGH3OHWD4LYR5fl9PzE5rM1WAumPtDW5L_-Wtm2T8WYLXqgQu43-dWlS7yxQICnyFOnefqM6Ij3OdFP_9iWjNV7v8BeD4oUVDM8K9-4TvPE6W414MY0kEquiUG0VOs6/s1600/IMG_3052.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv8lRvJFxSO8H28XGH3OHWD4LYR5fl9PzE5rM1WAumPtDW5L_-Wtm2T8WYLXqgQu43-dWlS7yxQICnyFOnefqM6Ij3OdFP_9iWjNV7v8BeD4oUVDM8K9-4TvPE6W414MY0kEquiUG0VOs6/s320/IMG_3052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466124559913200386" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezhoIhRdj3a2jMj8i_ZhKKzjH5Z_NUgGfFdjWHBS074oZP_z1ljP4K9tf8S_reUgRAdxBwtfDT4bD1LzQc2at9cKrnGoR1qEcqw36d1XaEOfLIgKjrf8rUpwV-EZJOD6td99ApEqWvigf/s1600/IMG_3048.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezhoIhRdj3a2jMj8i_ZhKKzjH5Z_NUgGfFdjWHBS074oZP_z1ljP4K9tf8S_reUgRAdxBwtfDT4bD1LzQc2at9cKrnGoR1qEcqw36d1XaEOfLIgKjrf8rUpwV-EZJOD6td99ApEqWvigf/s320/IMG_3048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466127967511030114" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOcCo-TfQABdesvMMnKSsbJqKfZjfHLRlbHX11wNioeRkhYp2atvZoKUAwM0nGc3ndZo1E_fPOIVqRDXNBHrQXYtEgL12GnesOwD4QuLGdPJYGAdbbjGJmlwX85FEhwTt-HcQ15BP7eIA/s1600/IMG_3013.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOcCo-TfQABdesvMMnKSsbJqKfZjfHLRlbHX11wNioeRkhYp2atvZoKUAwM0nGc3ndZo1E_fPOIVqRDXNBHrQXYtEgL12GnesOwD4QuLGdPJYGAdbbjGJmlwX85FEhwTt-HcQ15BP7eIA/s320/IMG_3013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466141434519862946" /></a><br /><br />My favorite thing about Machu Picchu is that they incorporated natural rocks into many of their built structures:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrIf6jn6C5hfAhf9xXBsRpZVpYrvGcDdaNY37TIyiKQ3oYup1NUloeTqw1AxJhtoHBuuV3C1g6hnWiR4fRTnYjjywc_x58vtoeNEuMOoPibsgXHQs14UsoROmZU3C9vO9CskTUkszBFtn/s1600/IMG_2980.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrIf6jn6C5hfAhf9xXBsRpZVpYrvGcDdaNY37TIyiKQ3oYup1NUloeTqw1AxJhtoHBuuV3C1g6hnWiR4fRTnYjjywc_x58vtoeNEuMOoPibsgXHQs14UsoROmZU3C9vO9CskTUkszBFtn/s320/IMG_2980.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466082965301816530" /></a><br /><br />And of course I had to get the classic Machu Picchu shot; the picture that every fat-ass tourist that's ever visited has taken. (Do you see the face in the mountains behind the city? (left to right: chin, lips, nose and forehead)):<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSHTWGvLL6OvgQJrxb2RQiKc6bPpDw5qs3XRHptOxguKjM3JOgF3AjdwAi92JkQrkpIsvfyty3OUebWfqsEK8CEquhG0BG0_trguJ3VHs3skLdLYHEDS74ctsNiHciRgHMonwN42nwIdB/s1600/IMG_3046.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtSHTWGvLL6OvgQJrxb2RQiKc6bPpDw5qs3XRHptOxguKjM3JOgF3AjdwAi92JkQrkpIsvfyty3OUebWfqsEK8CEquhG0BG0_trguJ3VHs3skLdLYHEDS74ctsNiHciRgHMonwN42nwIdB/s320/IMG_3046.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466051953348412306" /></a><br /><br />It might help if it's flipped:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclOymFknvpdRaLZ1mXuij5WLlghwkJUQN5KN6MbMI1b7qKaihpf5i8bhSL8IhhI6eqgjp6CYMbo4AFShnm1zvYUlLtFaY1mafTfHXxrKMm0Wza7jdD_YnDGz1uK8fH2V5GFroOHechNUo/s1600/IMG_3046.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclOymFknvpdRaLZ1mXuij5WLlghwkJUQN5KN6MbMI1b7qKaihpf5i8bhSL8IhhI6eqgjp6CYMbo4AFShnm1zvYUlLtFaY1mafTfHXxrKMm0Wza7jdD_YnDGz1uK8fH2V5GFroOHechNUo/s320/IMG_3046.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466055775728852562" /></a><br /><br />(If you don't see it now, you don't deserve to.)<br /><br />The reason I point out the face is to tell you that I discovered what I believe to be scientific proof that the Inca people smoked marijuana:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN5V99yibXS5hzLprzJvA0hD985Ily9Y7HoGYDNv_9rjL1UWVj27fxPJ9UEQg7Qk5KpdOBGsEghy3jeq5dCyZNDTCPF2Uair3arFF349wE4AOBfW8watliGTKwRdZEAV27PkohR0raL60/s1600/IMG_3020.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN5V99yibXS5hzLprzJvA0hD985Ily9Y7HoGYDNv_9rjL1UWVj27fxPJ9UEQg7Qk5KpdOBGsEghy3jeq5dCyZNDTCPF2Uair3arFF349wE4AOBfW8watliGTKwRdZEAV27PkohR0raL60/s320/IMG_3020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466135863276692898" /></a><br /><br />Yep, he's french inhaling!<br /><br />...The first 200 visitors each day get to climb Wayna Picchu (the mountain that forms the nose of the face). It's a steep climb, and the view of the surrounding mountains from the top is spectacular! <br /><br />I didn't realize how far from the ruins Wayna Picchu is; They look tiny from the top:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3PQmjktP_WjfHvzjQYRoR2neF6MUH37guPDMCzUFuAiaEnDp67t0cAO-XJ2OG_LPJCAni5dVmCNJsMvHBymAPFGqL2c5_WBeK54eqFqv8IZ-khG2bsHfqxMir3fmqKGilu8CQnfohhcS/s1600/IMG_3080.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3PQmjktP_WjfHvzjQYRoR2neF6MUH37guPDMCzUFuAiaEnDp67t0cAO-XJ2OG_LPJCAni5dVmCNJsMvHBymAPFGqL2c5_WBeK54eqFqv8IZ-khG2bsHfqxMir3fmqKGilu8CQnfohhcS/s320/IMG_3080.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466074667319544194" /></a><br /><br />I could also see the road and the river we had walked along the night before, as well as a massive landslide (can you spot the backhoe at the bottom left?):<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZgsYQaki2ka36iz4La-gyHMDWmFATbPglyEzS4TS8PXRb2-9IFMeQzmUKJT2wYbknCgtz9wiaEQ0YQki2AvRv-gETCfPADwieRemHCDr9NC6IN-FLbpgRCYtuPGrWtJ5coOJkGd6sVPU/s1600/IMG_3092.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZgsYQaki2ka36iz4La-gyHMDWmFATbPglyEzS4TS8PXRb2-9IFMeQzmUKJT2wYbknCgtz9wiaEQ0YQki2AvRv-gETCfPADwieRemHCDr9NC6IN-FLbpgRCYtuPGrWtJ5coOJkGd6sVPU/s320/IMG_3092.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466077535374448722" /></a><br /><br />How about now?:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS65IFFVFLwIa_ihXcjbleh3tUccsEZR67LP3sABbE3XkGmE-QLQXZrfJe5bNlv2pU0XmioCc9uBa1r2w5g5-Y93e1AmBIfVYtnXKr60LBGJYSQwmrGyWvt9cwH132Rz1aOmYy09odjnNE/s1600/IMG_3093.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS65IFFVFLwIa_ihXcjbleh3tUccsEZR67LP3sABbE3XkGmE-QLQXZrfJe5bNlv2pU0XmioCc9uBa1r2w5g5-Y93e1AmBIfVYtnXKr60LBGJYSQwmrGyWvt9cwH132Rz1aOmYy09odjnNE/s400/IMG_3093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466079690833881266" /></a><br /><br />I took an alternative route around the other side of Wayna Picchu to get down. It was beautiful and I only saw one other person the whole way back, which was nice. I had to climb down some steep staircases and wicked ladders:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UOHzdrEnFY05qrQIkviRBpBFRDJc9DWr095JPPkgUz3a3K7kE7w4y0zOWLzsNAZmIRKGceg3UPWhzCm24f43fLFdYRVm-_wuFZUexnJnk90-qwnUex2ooxU6bJtuSza0K82nXwXY9znp/s1600/IMG_3120.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UOHzdrEnFY05qrQIkviRBpBFRDJc9DWr095JPPkgUz3a3K7kE7w4y0zOWLzsNAZmIRKGceg3UPWhzCm24f43fLFdYRVm-_wuFZUexnJnk90-qwnUex2ooxU6bJtuSza0K82nXwXY9znp/s320/IMG_3120.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466123255257938802" /></a><br /><br />At around 3, I was exhausted and ready to go back to the hotel. There's a buffet just outside the entrance to Machu Picchu. "Maybe I'll eat lunch there after viewing the ruins," I thought... until I saw that the buffet cost 95 soles. I laughed and headed back down to Aguas Calientes. I'm ashamed to admit that I took the bus down, which costs 20 soles. I think I deserved it though after the limited sleep and long days I had experienced prior.<br /><br />I had to wait around Aguas Calientes an extra day for the rest of the group to see the ruins. Other than Machu Picchu and the beautiful surroundings, Aguas Calientes sucked. Everything was really expensive, it was packed with tourists (obviously) and it's the only place I've been to in Peru so far that charges tax in restaurants. I was ready to get out of there asap.<br /><br />We returned to Cusco the same way we came. The walk back was much better, because it was daytime and not raining. It was cool to see all of the terrain we had walked by days before but hadn't seen really: <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCpu_g1bozAbTGqPAGc355MFVQA_hthWA5DZd8xSEWN-JGXCImJkX73Ot2gmGxYZUYmQOlKZos9H9Z1Bk-04scJrEkKBCu2nGkLVJDzkBXvMglZbcivQ4waJnnGF4ThCkBmt23sYbF1uQC/s1600/IMG_3256.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCpu_g1bozAbTGqPAGc355MFVQA_hthWA5DZd8xSEWN-JGXCImJkX73Ot2gmGxYZUYmQOlKZos9H9Z1Bk-04scJrEkKBCu2nGkLVJDzkBXvMglZbcivQ4waJnnGF4ThCkBmt23sYbF1uQC/s320/IMG_3256.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466133089736207058" /></a><br /><br />Remember the long, slippery dangerous bridge?! Well it turns out there was a walkway on the side of it that we hadn't seen in the dark, so it was really not treacherous at all! (The bridge with the walkway on the left):<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjkcnrkZWTr5WPD36CcjVP0rOWCPqwphC_i85_lgvYMfHiEN_T7D-AgMPBuFot02ZmhtSwPkZTCyPJtJ0xk0NjgySdjzcArCqreJjuqBBptTd5ybXiTLTzI8blbeYNgFgNxuR8a1GPA_O/s1600/IMG_3276.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjkcnrkZWTr5WPD36CcjVP0rOWCPqwphC_i85_lgvYMfHiEN_T7D-AgMPBuFot02ZmhtSwPkZTCyPJtJ0xk0NjgySdjzcArCqreJjuqBBptTd5ybXiTLTzI8blbeYNgFgNxuR8a1GPA_O/s320/IMG_3276.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466126128109537522" /></a><br /><br />And back across the cable car we went. View from the middle:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpaqyx_I_aZsPBnRmQmfZA5mxDD0dmZB0KZoameUA-SomLMB2NlXHzLQJSnARhaSIf5m-3kbYyxRnoF56AgY6bkCv0NiZx1pWwXw8Jm7WRzfbEmMSfM_wDyz8pBmxN4X6AzPMbCbnDC62/s1600/IMG_3334.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpaqyx_I_aZsPBnRmQmfZA5mxDD0dmZB0KZoameUA-SomLMB2NlXHzLQJSnARhaSIf5m-3kbYyxRnoF56AgY6bkCv0NiZx1pWwXw8Jm7WRzfbEmMSfM_wDyz8pBmxN4X6AzPMbCbnDC62/s320/IMG_3334.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466130836064266962" /></a><br /><br />Once we got back to Santa Maria, it was all van from there to Cusco. And we made it home alive!Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-40442230041323378422010-04-24T18:36:00.000-07:002010-04-24T19:37:10.912-07:00Cusco: Other Random StuffI woke up early one day to see the sunset. It was cloudy, but still pretty cool:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzwhri6cV9dVRD2vq101-taRxWBn83KiPWIDKFYx8466XxW2SxVhxg8mhwLs1PPdv4WUf3CBo1pRG7tExzraYZuDstylpwF3Zyb3HxW5b_QXmpsfpFVdqMniPu4cZebdVVFeVDZzYRbu3/s1600/IMG_3432.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzwhri6cV9dVRD2vq101-taRxWBn83KiPWIDKFYx8466XxW2SxVhxg8mhwLs1PPdv4WUf3CBo1pRG7tExzraYZuDstylpwF3Zyb3HxW5b_QXmpsfpFVdqMniPu4cZebdVVFeVDZzYRbu3/s320/IMG_3432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463898051055338226" /></a><br /><br />...Economics below the equator are crazy. I could bust out some pie charts and talk about supply and demand, but all you really need to know is this: A jar of peanut butter costs more than an hour-long massage. That's without a happy ending; that would cost like 3 jars of peanut butter. Not like I know, that's just what I heard from the guy who sold me pot . . . holders.<br /><br />...I've been trying to improve my diet lately, and one of the best ways to do so is eating fresh fruits and vegetables from the market...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9BieRgimrgIL8IXWUTu4v-ygkBx6NDH-bkfYp1w2rZesgcDlv0DUD6QQSnjU1CsnCOqp8-0m_cXGX4vFQrlF9HXA5ZnoVasxVkquyG3oB6bl5EhsbAoO5KevYQLz2H64mNDP6n9TQDN4/s1600/IMG_2787.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9BieRgimrgIL8IXWUTu4v-ygkBx6NDH-bkfYp1w2rZesgcDlv0DUD6QQSnjU1CsnCOqp8-0m_cXGX4vFQrlF9HXA5ZnoVasxVkquyG3oB6bl5EhsbAoO5KevYQLz2H64mNDP6n9TQDN4/s320/IMG_2787.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463884986042247666" /></a><br /><br />One night, I was kind of bored. So I decided to <em>produce</em> (get it?!) some art...<br /><br />Happy:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfpWzqdUzyhMmRIW14pe-i5LiGyxhBNPnnzK-Nn04Ehb-ZApg146LikuUTIyeZAzXescmZnFjsaF6JynJ-1bD3Ju1mNtl19TeJgxwo7UAzV0xcWAMn6pXxzhyWOAT8pOns0rMDkzauGMg/s1600/IMG_2795.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfpWzqdUzyhMmRIW14pe-i5LiGyxhBNPnnzK-Nn04Ehb-ZApg146LikuUTIyeZAzXescmZnFjsaF6JynJ-1bD3Ju1mNtl19TeJgxwo7UAzV0xcWAMn6pXxzhyWOAT8pOns0rMDkzauGMg/s320/IMG_2795.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463890530800730962" /></a><br /><br />Sad:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGmZs5gbuVYtiWTWxOZnTLlg749ObOZjftg0bJvko4ZDhoQSM-Hkv5woyIhzUny4scY1txTSavqQsl80nYAWJtWRauF1QpVEOx7jKlfBhnMNSQU8fdf135jGb4C10qMTT5C0WhnheyQku3/s1600/IMG_2794.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGmZs5gbuVYtiWTWxOZnTLlg749ObOZjftg0bJvko4ZDhoQSM-Hkv5woyIhzUny4scY1txTSavqQsl80nYAWJtWRauF1QpVEOx7jKlfBhnMNSQU8fdf135jGb4C10qMTT5C0WhnheyQku3/s320/IMG_2794.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463886976688334306" /></a><br /><br />I miss hoopin:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUfJGHYrx9gt5pdCiOLdVhNG3XGi2Pc897mhmLMTPxvlIMFtjD81Dsv2Zzy2b_A_wg48QFuXOFLOToixBw9NTYOdSEBi1CRSm95bqkIaflc29Nktp-ixFJKgufCZWYKm7GA6_FcNySx7m/s1600/IMG_2791.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUfJGHYrx9gt5pdCiOLdVhNG3XGi2Pc897mhmLMTPxvlIMFtjD81Dsv2Zzy2b_A_wg48QFuXOFLOToixBw9NTYOdSEBi1CRSm95bqkIaflc29Nktp-ixFJKgufCZWYKm7GA6_FcNySx7m/s320/IMG_2791.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463888789219982210" /></a><br /><br />...I'll spare you the fruity porn scene.<br /><br />Oh, I forgot to introduce you guys to Bruno, the dog of my Peruvian uncle Roberto who is also my neighbor. Every time I walk to or from my house, I see Bruno lounging on the sidewalk...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgftweVO4mtW2PKU22w4eY1tUkVDoXZ2jS7-Z3uxMztejCPpL7ULQlnpKcXgbJ0w7FpF_mImck5ClJhLH8uFzsq8aL01-ePxgylJIlhVZ934culI1zmjRligBIzOGI3GpqAL3n1HZLhZcYk/s1600/IMG_3420.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgftweVO4mtW2PKU22w4eY1tUkVDoXZ2jS7-Z3uxMztejCPpL7ULQlnpKcXgbJ0w7FpF_mImck5ClJhLH8uFzsq8aL01-ePxgylJIlhVZ934culI1zmjRligBIzOGI3GpqAL3n1HZLhZcYk/s320/IMG_3420.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463894163614297234" /></a><br /><br />One Sunday, I went with Elias and two of his brothers to play some football. After making a fool of myself doing that, we went to a local picanteria to eat some food and drink some chicha, the traditional fermented corn drink of the Incas. <br /><br />According to Elias, drinking chica makes you big and strong, which is why the Incas were all over two meters tall. So it's kind of like milk; milk that gets you fucked up!<br /><br />Me toasting some chicha with two of Elias's brothers, Roberto & Umberto, and an awesome dude with a cowboy hat (I couldn't understand a word he said):<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqwXCcUsQEPfOxxtcc5oh-ompbhhzAdCCuFdI1AtvunO5k399iaFw9nJlUIJ7qqUYEXM3liXV6_Hk5QmMYnWPmhipWfJSHx0YlHl6KGa7L4zNArTjQZnhAf4wL8zMbnt60xxNBM2UdKeb/s1600/IMG_2713.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqwXCcUsQEPfOxxtcc5oh-ompbhhzAdCCuFdI1AtvunO5k399iaFw9nJlUIJ7qqUYEXM3liXV6_Hk5QmMYnWPmhipWfJSHx0YlHl6KGa7L4zNArTjQZnhAf4wL8zMbnt60xxNBM2UdKeb/s320/IMG_2713.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463892197783522882" /></a><br /><br />...Antony turned 18 on April 14th. In Peru, a man's 18th birthday is a big deal. Antony asked me if we could use my room for the party. I said sure. As if it wasn't already cool enough before, my room was transformed into a seriously funky party zone. There was a strobe light. And a disco ball. That's right.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRCm3SJ6U0ge394GSYKdD-M9kZBvaJfBXhUM3fKl_wxUOd25349_RZxx-63v6rRACgtEtVbEYmgx7iKYYxhClp1w7W9ycdFBW57o6JP1u8WRS_y0jDPhH8zynhDxDI-pikh2JD3tc3sOG/s1600/IMG_3429.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRCm3SJ6U0ge394GSYKdD-M9kZBvaJfBXhUM3fKl_wxUOd25349_RZxx-63v6rRACgtEtVbEYmgx7iKYYxhClp1w7W9ycdFBW57o6JP1u8WRS_y0jDPhH8zynhDxDI-pikh2JD3tc3sOG/s320/IMG_3429.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463895535172722738" /></a><br /><br />The party was awesome. My friends Sarah and Matthew from the U.S. and Paria and Rhiannon from Australia came. The gringos were done partying by about 1:00 a.m. The Peruvians welcomed the rising sun. Even little Florangela was tearing up the dance floor. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of that, but here's one of her eating some pudding to make up for it:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyWg5MKK-LAAeygYegI2zixja6Disu7WY2JWfKffsouATduYA6UUJv5I_Kb7dZlC3mOkbGBTEXp4-i2t9vh9Wq25YunPvoe5J6v9qPPJDPvYWt2fqY1s0gX0-h0LxhN3BosHVm3Z9DD2t/s1600/IMG_2803.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyWg5MKK-LAAeygYegI2zixja6Disu7WY2JWfKffsouATduYA6UUJv5I_Kb7dZlC3mOkbGBTEXp4-i2t9vh9Wq25YunPvoe5J6v9qPPJDPvYWt2fqY1s0gX0-h0LxhN3BosHVm3Z9DD2t/s320/IMG_2803.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463896993453269138" /></a><br /><br />My room still kind of smells like beer.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-18710150618991232752010-04-24T16:48:00.000-07:002010-04-24T18:32:31.856-07:00Cusco: Viewin' RuinsMy Peruvian brother Antony is studying to become a tour guide, along with studying English and working, too. He offered to be my guide for some of the sites around the city. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimq8OTYcJXcMlX2vT2YHCqc1bVNO8YwS3cIx5YhxZx00QsuUKSIXOeCP7AOm3dgFIYDe-wW34UMHeC9O0nB79LBDoYudl9aqhYp7_lfMs05zR32UkLUyWO2xdM0QSCR_bXtycrXRtn0wCF/s1600/IMG_2585.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimq8OTYcJXcMlX2vT2YHCqc1bVNO8YwS3cIx5YhxZx00QsuUKSIXOeCP7AOm3dgFIYDe-wW34UMHeC9O0nB79LBDoYudl9aqhYp7_lfMs05zR32UkLUyWO2xdM0QSCR_bXtycrXRtn0wCF/s320/IMG_2585.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463858533731864946" /></a><br /><br />I'm lucky to have my own guide, as opposed to using an agency. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not go visit some ruins with the Lincoln, Nebraska chapter of the Burt Reynolds fan club.<br /><br />We went to various ruins around Cusco, plus to some museums. My favorite of the trips was to Moray. We rented mountain bikes and rode about ten miles up to the ruins. The bike ride and the ruins were beautiful.<br /><br />Scenery during the ride:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhL9X_tXYddJEo4JHX48SMcbhMBrLLOY87MpLAcjrP64rHwHZIU6M6-6wtuKF6Y8KLNCvIQD-KRu-5luMUo_9XI2eCRF9HI1gQmvzE3UC5W4J-GecLOOSvA8zxVEthOtpafm2W6BexHZ52/s1600/IMG_2661.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhL9X_tXYddJEo4JHX48SMcbhMBrLLOY87MpLAcjrP64rHwHZIU6M6-6wtuKF6Y8KLNCvIQD-KRu-5luMUo_9XI2eCRF9HI1gQmvzE3UC5W4J-GecLOOSvA8zxVEthOtpafm2W6BexHZ52/s320/IMG_2661.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463879630060695282" /></a><br /><br />Moray:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UT0-NAQfxHwgfpddvPIDade5tKCkX0qRMUqer9WWguKIJlC4b-Mc4rGwhVROv9wQQl8AJ8-7h6nynHBcc9DEWCeIw8rN0KVerVwpsvg_bPv3TSKVcfGEdWpSdKY7JfNIQkuU4VoY2U9t/s1600/IMG_2617.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UT0-NAQfxHwgfpddvPIDade5tKCkX0qRMUqer9WWguKIJlC4b-Mc4rGwhVROv9wQQl8AJ8-7h6nynHBcc9DEWCeIw8rN0KVerVwpsvg_bPv3TSKVcfGEdWpSdKY7JfNIQkuU4VoY2U9t/s320/IMG_2617.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463861879575926322" /></a><br /><br />Antony explained to me that Moray's form represents the physical body of Pachamama, the Incan equivalent of Mother Earth (except they respected and revered her). We laid down and took a nap in Pachamama's womb, and were reborn as brothers of the earth. When we laid our heads down, there were a bunch of tourists in the ruins talking and laughing. When we arose, we were alone. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoMDf-G5snyJXrExdSxmF2F9P8X5hcdhHLv8QQuZLAa6JoyuCJdQ8n46zcN4IWPVHNxurvoFwlAPJKH1F8iV49nmm1Ge6EoC4RmfJFSK5Si8QWpjDr_s5xZy14uWrJZfERZd_Blhwzcb7/s1600/IMG_2643.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoMDf-G5snyJXrExdSxmF2F9P8X5hcdhHLv8QQuZLAa6JoyuCJdQ8n46zcN4IWPVHNxurvoFwlAPJKH1F8iV49nmm1Ge6EoC4RmfJFSK5Si8QWpjDr_s5xZy14uWrJZfERZd_Blhwzcb7/s320/IMG_2643.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463863776979156034" /></a><br />(Those are her boobs at the top left!)<br /><br />Despite Moray's elevation, the Incans were able to grow crops here that normally would only grow thousands of feet lower. Using the terraces, they were able to trap heat and mimic growing conditions of lower altitudes.<br /><br />Agricultural terraces:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxU0-uz33BOUqQGRFzWjh0Eny1mMSYyxt5u218F4KZTf14mH-abo56vQfJZmRU_15X_AzIHsf_vCiG570t1u6vbdXXOI3-uh58cb3uCfbQBn3G4xEX9OPtvUA-gYI8_RSgyWyJQGjFcYQ/s1600/IMG_2633.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxU0-uz33BOUqQGRFzWjh0Eny1mMSYyxt5u218F4KZTf14mH-abo56vQfJZmRU_15X_AzIHsf_vCiG570t1u6vbdXXOI3-uh58cb3uCfbQBn3G4xEX9OPtvUA-gYI8_RSgyWyJQGjFcYQ/s320/IMG_2633.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463865821438652530" /></a><br /><br />The ride down from Moray was a blast:<br /> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4rm8dwSeeClJ1Qz49yEqP8O2wIteEKMra5ETTxIVsVJHlTmlpzlijjqlkLeyrkST3KFs5LoJYixI4WhhSzUYZ3tKhN9I-pN4uzCwF2Rm9-Xi0RUmBaL6ubFwK9fhXtsgurVUc9IUMVI-/s1600/IMG_2666.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4rm8dwSeeClJ1Qz49yEqP8O2wIteEKMra5ETTxIVsVJHlTmlpzlijjqlkLeyrkST3KFs5LoJYixI4WhhSzUYZ3tKhN9I-pN4uzCwF2Rm9-Xi0RUmBaL6ubFwK9fhXtsgurVUc9IUMVI-/s320/IMG_2666.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463856795862123714" /></a><br /><br />...I know I look like a real extreme-sports maven in this shot. I should have had him take a picture of me on a rougher patch of the trail.<br /><br />Another of my favorite trips was to Ollatatambo. Here, Antony reminded me that we have the ability to obtain energy from rocks and the earth. Ollatatambo has rocks the size of cars on a mountainside, that were believed to have originated accross a valley, on another mountain. <br /><br />So the Incans removed the rocks from the mountainside, brought them down the mountain, got them across the river (!), and up the other mountain and in place. Wow. I honestly can't wrap my head around how they did some of this. <br /><br />Huge, magically-transported rock:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONUjNyYfeZfNTzpUHdVfIDhbmlj74r5QJHDCuiRr82_OAgMr9KBfSS_WzFG0ET6jOa2IlbxAxrXrbjKFTm7ZVRfwetRpVxgWLr6TGmJbE213XC-YS_G0LcIEoz1lTngYycLMqM5chB-Gq/s1600/IMG_2742.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONUjNyYfeZfNTzpUHdVfIDhbmlj74r5QJHDCuiRr82_OAgMr9KBfSS_WzFG0ET6jOa2IlbxAxrXrbjKFTm7ZVRfwetRpVxgWLr6TGmJbE213XC-YS_G0LcIEoz1lTngYycLMqM5chB-Gq/s320/IMG_2742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463875386206590578" /></a><br /><br />View from the top of Ollatatambo:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyWOugXRctXSs66djAgr6XkKJw5DvsZev_tkFx_DZCJ29_M-BLI4vvx6vV5GwuChvG-0mBXeoNPzKfQuHVRTlqyfOgcG_ijOUabisAUiEvgYdR08tT9sHwb8y9G6lObZWi11Fq77-4Sku/s1600/IMG_2741.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyWOugXRctXSs66djAgr6XkKJw5DvsZev_tkFx_DZCJ29_M-BLI4vvx6vV5GwuChvG-0mBXeoNPzKfQuHVRTlqyfOgcG_ijOUabisAUiEvgYdR08tT9sHwb8y9G6lObZWi11Fq77-4Sku/s320/IMG_2741.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463876921043641858" /></a><br /><br />Some other ruins we also visited:<br /><br />Saqsawayman:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL63o7N650J8QXGPzm8Zw-VrMnJvoMzRlg0U3fTY11RYHg_-xuwZTYBt_Xbq5ylKED8p1STI90nz8BqXnY3LZas5AYozxxjob_u831xGaUsg8_gljZ7fR4KPgjWj29_dSPvNNwJUl2F01A/s1600/IMG_2377.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL63o7N650J8QXGPzm8Zw-VrMnJvoMzRlg0U3fTY11RYHg_-xuwZTYBt_Xbq5ylKED8p1STI90nz8BqXnY3LZas5AYozxxjob_u831xGaUsg8_gljZ7fR4KPgjWj29_dSPvNNwJUl2F01A/s320/IMG_2377.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463867913147824194" /></a><br /><br />Q'enqo:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHtcQbesHpO5ENdyvx8z83msZ-2nwOVX4-LaM01FBw7Rx9pfQjSoOdHvpv5RNz3xiaAz8d8Iz6Hn_KSeYu28H4_O-Lc_2v5kIX8Ylf3CUBHgGdVjRy6EMIVRV5Djgd1p3ZiW9sBVVuM63/s1600/IMG_2446.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHtcQbesHpO5ENdyvx8z83msZ-2nwOVX4-LaM01FBw7Rx9pfQjSoOdHvpv5RNz3xiaAz8d8Iz6Hn_KSeYu28H4_O-Lc_2v5kIX8Ylf3CUBHgGdVjRy6EMIVRV5Djgd1p3ZiW9sBVVuM63/s320/IMG_2446.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463869462633426018" /></a><br /><br />Tambomachay:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7lZkLHsyT55Ce0TqHQ7PAIaluUH9gAcLxuGOc6bfQECuWry2D1itnmkkssEIaDRjN4nN6YcbpyBKWwbI_cmdT8zfIEqMxkqa4ggwaPd2exczF2KZrHMFM84lFDuZUj3CHBVssOc6kgot-/s1600/IMG_2473.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7lZkLHsyT55Ce0TqHQ7PAIaluUH9gAcLxuGOc6bfQECuWry2D1itnmkkssEIaDRjN4nN6YcbpyBKWwbI_cmdT8zfIEqMxkqa4ggwaPd2exczF2KZrHMFM84lFDuZUj3CHBVssOc6kgot-/s320/IMG_2473.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463871502863150626" /></a><br /><br />Puca Pucara:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHxcm4NPHeCgDRc7pQ6Wny-i1OLbc_hbwZYAwZuPk3620jLX1U2sZJyvGNrnAmMMPYScFTyU_x7jxqNMwM9nEUrmCPWnCIycR59YxTxuzujAuR8SFEt_DPPZFXaMuN9z_iSpYy7r5OxDN/s1600/IMG_2498.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHxcm4NPHeCgDRc7pQ6Wny-i1OLbc_hbwZYAwZuPk3620jLX1U2sZJyvGNrnAmMMPYScFTyU_x7jxqNMwM9nEUrmCPWnCIycR59YxTxuzujAuR8SFEt_DPPZFXaMuN9z_iSpYy7r5OxDN/s320/IMG_2498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463873477885372674" /></a>Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-31816695100017832642010-04-21T19:22:00.000-07:002010-04-21T20:21:34.245-07:00Cusco: Listen to the MusicElias, my Peruvian dad, makes and sells musical instruments for a living. He also plays the instruments. He also rents rooms out to gringos. His expertise is traditional Inca instruments. Namely charangos (small ten-stringed guitars), quenas (flutes), and pan pipes. <br /><br />Charango:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLv7xS9Er24e66Zl6sA1PVysbXBlQtQH7OYsJDuDxOjgk3iv1uG0eFXVRPet-r9Px258nfZweSRB9bOP-flUvc0ATLyNPKc1xARLWedP-aNelG5y-7oOe8LOMjbUZ7vw3e6JyDIVbZbWV/s1600/IMG_3459.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLv7xS9Er24e66Zl6sA1PVysbXBlQtQH7OYsJDuDxOjgk3iv1uG0eFXVRPet-r9Px258nfZweSRB9bOP-flUvc0ATLyNPKc1xARLWedP-aNelG5y-7oOe8LOMjbUZ7vw3e6JyDIVbZbWV/s320/IMG_3459.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462787537681578402" /></a><br /><br />Quena:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RK_7_WiwTmcyqIiSjeocgGAftbA68KguRXWEbhsdBHLW4IdVSTTShmjzQ4eU7q95ayDcySZlkyMq-Eoxdx5ezhw8llt-CNd2fuqYZIU92oJhL4XPaiWaENdv_8EXboaVLc5K8gq5Fs5H/s1600/IMG_3472.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RK_7_WiwTmcyqIiSjeocgGAftbA68KguRXWEbhsdBHLW4IdVSTTShmjzQ4eU7q95ayDcySZlkyMq-Eoxdx5ezhw8llt-CNd2fuqYZIU92oJhL4XPaiWaENdv_8EXboaVLc5K8gq5Fs5H/s320/IMG_3472.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462785810841685426" /></a><br /><br />Pan Pipes:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2YUBoafhrDyYAlF8dczJOPxayr3edu-gtUel5kp5qQFcsvAIlppJNbbEH2dqC3m-supTJikRS23dY-EnHoYMENtUVhmDeQMTrtJq2f47ullJFF8WCzGU-AV0XrO4y26w3emlJZXbQPtA/s1600/IMG_3463.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2YUBoafhrDyYAlF8dczJOPxayr3edu-gtUel5kp5qQFcsvAIlppJNbbEH2dqC3m-supTJikRS23dY-EnHoYMENtUVhmDeQMTrtJq2f47ullJFF8WCzGU-AV0XrO4y26w3emlJZXbQPtA/s320/IMG_3463.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462784187330547186" /></a><br /><br />Elias playing the charango and pan pipes at the same time:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-_lXDBCSXfWdiH4KnRLjQi5oPUZQwJQkEV9ba2lhDsxgYBlkFb8_q6QSQMy_l5JJ1ITcNTfsmdpN9LEQ1HjtKFTNRECbll_boPDUhfHhBxDc1wmBQdS6qPXYtFHlNr0MAQuFehBjTVB3/s1600/IMG_3470.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-_lXDBCSXfWdiH4KnRLjQi5oPUZQwJQkEV9ba2lhDsxgYBlkFb8_q6QSQMy_l5JJ1ITcNTfsmdpN9LEQ1HjtKFTNRECbll_boPDUhfHhBxDc1wmBQdS6qPXYtFHlNr0MAQuFehBjTVB3/s400/IMG_3470.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462783440205354274" /></a><br /><br />Elias's most time-consuming and impressive work can be seen in the process of making a charango. It begins with a block of wood like this one: <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfH0JAZmoRmGYYMe_PBUWcrjuldod1wWbbLXEb8VPBfsUXnSLSGuq6X_rrUfOQoeVN1XYCvJwS5nKl7IMaWu_KK7UgzqzlgPGm1yIxSHZjl4_4PgZZxcsEy6_Ui7B9Asx9RUwr3FINIEVj/s1600/IMG_3443.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfH0JAZmoRmGYYMe_PBUWcrjuldod1wWbbLXEb8VPBfsUXnSLSGuq6X_rrUfOQoeVN1XYCvJwS5nKl7IMaWu_KK7UgzqzlgPGm1yIxSHZjl4_4PgZZxcsEy6_Ui7B9Asx9RUwr3FINIEVj/s320/IMG_3443.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462788225701310290" /></a><br /><br />Elias then shapes the wood until it looks like this:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlUiIzc8PJ3wY6e5gH71QIzF-vVUyUuOhVXHgPOmvNK3jD2ugM3N1eX6W4TXR4yuoZdQ7P8hoBrwxkgAwNzivYJ1aEUeNnPUopY5va6c5JZJhM5xl7yxKk371dOTz1ywH9irSu_dGP22s/s1600/IMG_3437.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlUiIzc8PJ3wY6e5gH71QIzF-vVUyUuOhVXHgPOmvNK3jD2ugM3N1eX6W4TXR4yuoZdQ7P8hoBrwxkgAwNzivYJ1aEUeNnPUopY5va6c5JZJhM5xl7yxKk371dOTz1ywH9irSu_dGP22s/s320/IMG_3437.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462789030840977810" /></a> <br /><br />...hollows out the middle with a hammer and chisel:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4EYhwBdE01YYZzlhS-SThcnCgfyS_H9_dO_gG4v88HmfsaOx5nuVaPE58VfopFKSq4fVXgHeJJg4ZhkxqLJJp1WuRh4JXu3EIU_jYlJyV8L21r5j1sBkzAsAiJ5tXW6UrnrhRyHDk5tZr/s1600/IMG_3444.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4EYhwBdE01YYZzlhS-SThcnCgfyS_H9_dO_gG4v88HmfsaOx5nuVaPE58VfopFKSq4fVXgHeJJg4ZhkxqLJJp1WuRh4JXu3EIU_jYlJyV8L21r5j1sBkzAsAiJ5tXW6UrnrhRyHDk5tZr/s320/IMG_3444.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462790442960454946" /></a><br /><br />...sands it:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uBW0QhoEbXA7WeHps25V38JAVvwhLauvkcIJCgwoKVEjTkbOL3ur5_CqQOqbecKAmY6leJekZkAYJy1vwGxs7wuTxgExfFQQO5bld1wG9Cn4AyeFpCvEd0-NDDjyHSWvrOhTLJIflRcW/s1600/IMG_3461.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uBW0QhoEbXA7WeHps25V38JAVvwhLauvkcIJCgwoKVEjTkbOL3ur5_CqQOqbecKAmY6leJekZkAYJy1vwGxs7wuTxgExfFQQO5bld1wG9Cn4AyeFpCvEd0-NDDjyHSWvrOhTLJIflRcW/s320/IMG_3461.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462795901168062594" /></a><br /><br />...paints or burns it: <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwJT7ydR4bnelgTNjNEn3rp0kMFEF1d-4bJpXi0-4VoewsYbR8Qf7ehgzh-nrnKc0xPtaofFn3-vdX6nfLDqUlPp995IHPTaiAAQYQGfDRS6MAZLd6vtm79J0ITKgPx-5GFPz1AU5gHUq/s1600/IMG_3435.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwJT7ydR4bnelgTNjNEn3rp0kMFEF1d-4bJpXi0-4VoewsYbR8Qf7ehgzh-nrnKc0xPtaofFn3-vdX6nfLDqUlPp995IHPTaiAAQYQGfDRS6MAZLd6vtm79J0ITKgPx-5GFPz1AU5gHUq/s320/IMG_3435.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462789798049553410" /></a><br /><br />(I wish I would have been this productive with my wood-burning kit back in the day.)<br /><br />...lacquers it: <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg38iNJZvn_tbnYa_VVcv8whZCwOPaMGrKVDkW5bP_ZvCBD8ZRJo4NhPdqZWdSNhhIVyrR7cwYnmYSy3fNyUgPbxKs7eAZepFBU6fouL6XVRsPM1kZMTCX9e6NE79uwEPKOld9iZ-74VYFZ/s1600/IMG_3457.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg38iNJZvn_tbnYa_VVcv8whZCwOPaMGrKVDkW5bP_ZvCBD8ZRJo4NhPdqZWdSNhhIVyrR7cwYnmYSy3fNyUgPbxKs7eAZepFBU6fouL6XVRsPM1kZMTCX9e6NE79uwEPKOld9iZ-74VYFZ/s320/IMG_3457.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462791002610166946" /></a><br /><br />(I didn't have a gas mask!)<br /><br />...strings it:<br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfVdUWbqfz8NiledlMEM5qCI9DS5BKendyX-s5Z9CXXDM3UJrK7JRQzwXSYQbcd20FwYd95i41i2jDY1hE0o79yRSbIg-Ywcg37fy0DeMcPZQ9dRCRH1RuuHK1fX_TZll1TkMgXOVP2g8/s1600/IMG_3468.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfVdUWbqfz8NiledlMEM5qCI9DS5BKendyX-s5Z9CXXDM3UJrK7JRQzwXSYQbcd20FwYd95i41i2jDY1hE0o79yRSbIg-Ywcg37fy0DeMcPZQ9dRCRH1RuuHK1fX_TZll1TkMgXOVP2g8/s320/IMG_3468.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462791672547182658" /></a><br /><br />...& there you have it. A finished charango:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimB4FQZnuLoUKjIuAIUT2Vzd6IYgDBVyETOZPq7zoYsYiKf41EeyfjryJ7Ir7sZ_XCBumJ5X-R_-TaLBPP_aZKNqKICPknvBKzE78vpKfqFxpv0F30L7OFBYjC5yk49cNc4U9Sz5-PtyX9/s1600/IMG_3465.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimB4FQZnuLoUKjIuAIUT2Vzd6IYgDBVyETOZPq7zoYsYiKf41EeyfjryJ7Ir7sZ_XCBumJ5X-R_-TaLBPP_aZKNqKICPknvBKzE78vpKfqFxpv0F30L7OFBYjC5yk49cNc4U9Sz5-PtyX9/s400/IMG_3465.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462794912064531346" /></a><br /><br />Elias then takes to the streets of Cusco to sell his work. Tourists are his main customers, and this year has been a tough one for sales due to weather issues as well as an abundance of tight-wads. His instruments are a hell of a bargain, though.<br /><br />Prices for Elias's hand-made instruments: <br />Charango: 320-450 soles (depending whether it's carved, painted, etc.) <br />Quena: 120 soles <br />Pan pipes: 60-70 soles<br /><br />1 U.S. dollar = 2.89 soles... I'll let you do the math.<br /><br />If you are interested in purchasing an instrument, contact me at charles.angelo@colorado.edu. (asap; I'm leaving Cusco soon!)<br /><br />Note: shipping may be upwards of 100 soles; I'll look into it.<br /><br />Another Note: Elias thinks I'm pretty cool so I can probably get you a discount.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-3049849415684136192010-04-20T18:18:00.000-07:002010-04-20T19:27:25.325-07:00Cusco: Finding a HomeThe bus ride to Cusco was 17 hours, but it wasn't bad at all. I paid for a regular seat on the double decker bus, but ended up getting one of the bed seats for some reason. So I had ample leg room and slept prettymuch the whole time! <br /><br />Cruising into Cusco was beautiful! I loved Pisco, but going from there to Cusco was the asthetic equivalent of going from Bush to Obama.<br /><br />Shot from the bus window:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhigoKTx0swITeOGn1Efpec3a_fvKi-hp0QJNiKLz8RxVNsFrvR9uSrSlEYRw1gO4FrI_gaXI2zZVlLCB3QvzKcWeXxwoKqvvUsO4vQNyUlsLCfLLwB4WiAbfoMcw-z6hvchhnpcB3cmez7/s1600/IMG_2292.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhigoKTx0swITeOGn1Efpec3a_fvKi-hp0QJNiKLz8RxVNsFrvR9uSrSlEYRw1gO4FrI_gaXI2zZVlLCB3QvzKcWeXxwoKqvvUsO4vQNyUlsLCfLLwB4WiAbfoMcw-z6hvchhnpcB3cmez7/s400/IMG_2292.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462401184286221906" /></a><br /><br />I spent my first few nights at a hostel. A few of my friends from PSF had given me hand-written directions to an apartment they had stayed in a few months earlier. On my third day in Cusco, my plan was to head there and see if I could rent a room. My plan was interrupted when one of the many street vendors got my attention.<br /><br />It was a kid selling paintings. At first I said no to him, because I had bought a painting the day before. He was persistent though, and soon I was looking at what he had to offer. <br /><br />I really liked one of the watercolors he had, and I needed gifts. We haggled a bit and settled on a price. I didn't have correct change to pay for the piece, however. I offered to buy the kid lunch to cover the rest. He said this would work.<br /><br />So we sat down in a restaurant and began to chat (in Spanish!). I helped him with some English homework he was working on. Eventually, I told him I was going to check out the apartment after lunch. I never made it to the apartment.<br /><br />The kid said his family had a room available at their house. I decided I'd check it out. After all, what's the worst that could happen? getting robbed, raped and murdered?<br /><br />It's about a ten minute bus ride from the center of town up to the Vargas' house. It's in a neighborhood above the city called Chinchero. The house boasts impressive views of the surrounding mountains, forests and the city.<br /><br />View from Chincero:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4O3t57DKGmH6sVxSCoL-9fcD1PgyKvIk3OzNkGLXDoemthV4hWe6vG_bOyPYTBQ4Kb2oA0d95jovaDQNoqJ0aKwFlVXsIEXVr54CfykKRQusrFrDgySiGKf4mTbomtnr_VoxoKrBqlvox/s1600/IMG_2711.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4O3t57DKGmH6sVxSCoL-9fcD1PgyKvIk3OzNkGLXDoemthV4hWe6vG_bOyPYTBQ4Kb2oA0d95jovaDQNoqJ0aKwFlVXsIEXVr54CfykKRQusrFrDgySiGKf4mTbomtnr_VoxoKrBqlvox/s400/IMG_2711.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462407528531771362" /></a><br /><br />The room looked good, and the family seemed nice enough to not leave me in a ditch, so I decided to rent the room - It was a good deal too!<br /><br />My back yard:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66WMy6eM6FDV1oBFcxB8ItC4-mczFMLyEKKeV3k3b8BnZKpNckSyFoFADJXANUdMqW68m9NNf7ndTym_MtE00QeBG3k0Lk7ytYSZ9qm-4S7Q1ZA9NXpEazeEZ9nOQXw_KaQ-4_Dt_xjPJ/s1600/IMG_3423.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66WMy6eM6FDV1oBFcxB8ItC4-mczFMLyEKKeV3k3b8BnZKpNckSyFoFADJXANUdMqW68m9NNf7ndTym_MtE00QeBG3k0Lk7ytYSZ9qm-4S7Q1ZA9NXpEazeEZ9nOQXw_KaQ-4_Dt_xjPJ/s400/IMG_3423.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462399155149531362" /></a><br /><br />Living with the Vargas family has been great. It's been almost a month now, and I think my Spanish has improved more from talking with the family than it would have paying $100 a week for Spanish classes.<br /><br />Mi familia Peruana:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBS3bNBXEQ9Z4bMz7Yqjdem4xMmtTG4dMQDCKHLTg49BvgrwNuRO2TsdyfwjOhmJEYUpU-GFJH2hhmFJ-wlZj72yKZs87Rx03kVpmE4uwy3qzIfQO62WHAEVg8skTXLm8n3JF1uM_2XB-/s1600/IMG_2799.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBS3bNBXEQ9Z4bMz7Yqjdem4xMmtTG4dMQDCKHLTg49BvgrwNuRO2TsdyfwjOhmJEYUpU-GFJH2hhmFJ-wlZj72yKZs87Rx03kVpmE4uwy3qzIfQO62WHAEVg8skTXLm8n3JF1uM_2XB-/s400/IMG_2799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462402433382236738" /></a><br /><br />From front/left to back/right: goddaughter Florangela, son Antony, daughter Michelle, father Elias, and mother Berta... and a fatty piece of bread.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-43571919925730007122010-04-13T15:43:00.000-07:002010-04-13T15:58:20.249-07:00Farewell PSFAnd my time to leave Pisco arrived. (I wanted to head to Cusco shortly after Machu Picchu opened so I could get up there before the tidal wave of other tourists descended upon it).<br /><br />Everyone has to give a little goodbye speech at their last morning meeting at PSF. My goal was to make my speech as funny as possible, but really one part stood out... <br /><br />"PSF is like masturbation rehab," I said. This was followed by a few seconds of dead silence, then luckily a huge laugh. I then said: "and I'm one month clean!" Yeah, I said it, and it was true, too! <br /><br />I think it was the best goodbye speech ever at PSF. I'm just sayin. Unfortunately though, for the rest of my stay there, I was kind of known as the guy who really needed to beat off. I guess I did imply that I was addicted to masturbation. 7 times a day isn't that much though, right guys?<br /><br />So just as I was really getting to know everyone and getting used to my surroundings, I hopped on a bus out of Pisco. I miss that place, especially the roof crew. Many a night was spent lounging, drinking, smoking, and making music on the roof of the volunteer house. I'm gonna miss it, almost as much as the people I spent it with.<br /><br />Shot from the roof:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_gS662c4H-EUqbh7ot6b9-pfO-cU4QJP6NzKxZIpPPN8BcUrvwrx-WgSRl_MK3id-JrOy4B4epNGY1QMdzAzOeUB9zHKchTwkwFXY2Mn3xM6mJuUXj-mp2w-fcUJd5zhJju4KrJDjIPQ/s1600/IMG_2170.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_gS662c4H-EUqbh7ot6b9-pfO-cU4QJP6NzKxZIpPPN8BcUrvwrx-WgSRl_MK3id-JrOy4B4epNGY1QMdzAzOeUB9zHKchTwkwFXY2Mn3xM6mJuUXj-mp2w-fcUJd5zhJju4KrJDjIPQ/s400/IMG_2170.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459758907982948098" /></a><br /><br />I'll never forget Pisco Sin Fronteras, and hopefully I'll see some of my Pisco friends again during this journey or another!Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-88664273766802437832010-04-13T14:48:00.000-07:002010-04-13T15:42:21.690-07:00PSF: WorkWhen I last left off, I was sleeping in the hallway, waking up sweaty. Later on I learned that it is widely referred to as the Ballsway.<br /><br />Anyway, I made it out of the Ballsway and into the main volunteer house. I moved into a top bunk in the Surfer's dorm. I don't think any of us actually surf. Anyway, it smelled pretty horrible; a combination of a broken toilet that still got used for a while after it first broke, and a person who never showers. It was still better than the Ballsway.<br /><br />The first few volunteer projects I worked on were interesting. My first full day of hard work was at Olga's house. Olga was trapped under a table for days after the earthquake, and she has now saved enough money to buy materials to rebuild her house. PSF provides the labor for people who can provide materials. I spent the first half of the day digging a U shaped trench for Olga's bathroom. The soil was soft, so it was pretty fun actually.<br /><br />The trench:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kctpZMdejYcnPjpQOzWAlnKSwGboft00dFxbAlkdfi09-XCAaAY80fmiKA_Jy6NYUSGcB9gNJ2nkXT_182alKRs_fYh_aGFDIgrrOVciXAhLYd2nsRP4y-4zT9kTFyiXkmeva2EqV7EE/s1600/IMG_2179.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kctpZMdejYcnPjpQOzWAlnKSwGboft00dFxbAlkdfi09-XCAaAY80fmiKA_Jy6NYUSGcB9gNJ2nkXT_182alKRs_fYh_aGFDIgrrOVciXAhLYd2nsRP4y-4zT9kTFyiXkmeva2EqV7EE/s320/IMG_2179.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459748125162136274" /></a><br /><br />That day I also hauled gravel in a wheel-barrow, which was not as fun because the wheel barrow was made for Danny DeVito to use, and if I lifted it higher than my thigh the front edge would hit the ground. I also laid some bricks for one of the walls of the house, and we poured a concrete footer. I never made it back to Olga's house, but she was really nice and glad to have us, so it seemed like a good project.<br /><br />The Danny DeVito sized wheel barrow on top of a Tom Cruise sized mototaxi:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNallsikGd436oRkP1SWxo84QwKGXsiEiyRBUjAmdTV337y33NC8zsCFdVpj9MIIkTXkq90jAZyjlTLsWmA1ML6LN_aX7ycpl1-ikZUxZuNlDPClhSOQnOh4NJ5znwt3C_TU6y4FGWu_iu/s1600/IMG_2185.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNallsikGd436oRkP1SWxo84QwKGXsiEiyRBUjAmdTV337y33NC8zsCFdVpj9MIIkTXkq90jAZyjlTLsWmA1ML6LN_aX7ycpl1-ikZUxZuNlDPClhSOQnOh4NJ5znwt3C_TU6y4FGWu_iu/s320/IMG_2185.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459749034454353618" /></a><br /><br />For the majority of my time I worked on one project, up at Las Dunas, a desert-like community that is a few miles east of Pisco, and higher up, which is why families fled there after the quake when the tsunami hit. (All of the volunteers fled there one day as well, because we were fearing a tsunami from the earthquake in Chile).<br /><br />Las Dunas were uninhabited before the earthquake. Life on Las Dunas is hot, and there ain't a lot of shade. One thing it does have are some resilient people, most with great attitudes, along with great views of the ocean, sand dunes and mountains.<br /><br />View from the top of Las Dunas:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1bVA0Dpj3jLbBREZbEevuaZaL7hvjTtEVYdpKsswiGmxOd2CE4ML55m-ychtQbj3ehj3jZ1UFPf3MnlWfTBoMzJCi4TOheqRq_gfI0JulMPyog7HUt5_Oz7l14MjYDkk1DP7pU16QXnM/s1600/IMG_2136.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1bVA0Dpj3jLbBREZbEevuaZaL7hvjTtEVYdpKsswiGmxOd2CE4ML55m-ychtQbj3ehj3jZ1UFPf3MnlWfTBoMzJCi4TOheqRq_gfI0JulMPyog7HUt5_Oz7l14MjYDkk1DP7pU16QXnM/s320/IMG_2136.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459750364152134962" /></a><br /><br />A local church group offered to build some of the families new brick houses to live in. Currently, they live in modular homes, which are made of metal and something like plywood. Each lot has a front and a back space. Our job was to move these modular homes onto foundations in the back space (if a foundation existed). If a foundation didn't exist, we would fill in and level the lot and pour one.<br /><br />To move a modular, we took off the outside walls, which left the frame of the house exposed. The frames had holes that were perfect for sticking bars or brooms or tools or whatever would fit to lift the house. It took about a dozen people to lift a modular, and a few to direct the move. <br /><br />I'm pretty sure we did some minimal to substantial damage to a few of these homes, but it was what the people wanted to do. The other option was to de-assemble the units, which is as time consuming as a life-size, less exciting erector set. If you don't know what erector set is then you're wack.<br /><br />So after we moved the modulars, there sat concrete foundations. A nice new brick house needs a solid concrete foundation, right? Sure. But not this foundation. We had to smash this motherfucker up and haul away the pieces. Most of my work at PSF consisted of this. The new foundations for the brick houses will need trenches, which will be dug by PSF volunteers (luckily I was out of there before this stage), which is why we had to get rid of the original foundation.<br /><br />An already-moved modular and a ready-to-smash foundation:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnreBZFUK6O_xQtMPSA7Wc_ROTQDRw4HLQySUkiNnr62eASIzsYn5xalTXkepUOv5KY-HSjqf4SzAHPguw_ZksAez0wNlYsMWG350rBjurFVnAiOTThzjFnUixXAAa4kUGLPoQhoFRnvN/s1600/IMG_2204.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnreBZFUK6O_xQtMPSA7Wc_ROTQDRw4HLQySUkiNnr62eASIzsYn5xalTXkepUOv5KY-HSjqf4SzAHPguw_ZksAez0wNlYsMWG350rBjurFVnAiOTThzjFnUixXAAa4kUGLPoQhoFRnvN/s320/IMG_2204.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459754014438524706" /></a><br /><br />These foundations ranged in thickness between a few inches and a few feet. At first, we simply wailed away at them with sledge hammers. One Peruvian guy came and helped us on a few of the days. I nicknamed him Iron Mike, and he earned it. This guy would take about 30 sledge hammer swings in a row. The idea of quality over quantity flew out the window when Iron Mike was in the house, and nobody would dare question him. You simply can't question that kind of effort. Normal people are pretty damn tired after 10 sledge hammer swings. At least stoners are. I wonder where Iron Mike is now... probably in a back brace somewhere.<br /><br />So we smashed away. This worked alright, and we felt pretty manly, but there was another way. We realized we needed to weaken the slab before releasing our fury upon it. So we began to dig around the sides, and hammer pick axes beneath the slab, and pry it up before smashing it. Doing this, we were able to break off much bigger slabs. It became almost like a sport, because everyone filled different roles and we moved fast.<br /><br />Luckily while I was there nobody got hammered or axed in the dome. Sometimes there were more than a dozen people working on one foundation, because there was nothing else to do, and that is simply too many people when heavy and sharp tools are being swung.<br /><br />I also taught some English in Pisco. Initially, it was a real challenge. I was in a small classroom with 7 students who were about 11-13 and another volunteer teacher who didn't say a word the whole time. The first few questions I asked of the students were met with blank stares, and I began to sweat. <br /><br />Eventually though, they warmed up to my goofy gringo ways and started to relax. By the end, everyone was laughing and seemed to genuinely want to learn!<br /><br />I ended up only teaching English once. A few weeks later, I went back to teach again, but apparently it was a holiday, because the school was closed. I walked around the corner to ask if anyone knew anything about the school being closed. Other than being offered sex by a middle-aged, gold-toothed lady, I found out nothing... The sex was surprisingly good though!<br /><br />I also went to Ludoteca, which is a child-care center. This was just as tiring as hard labor in the sun! The kids prettymuch went crazy the whole time and wanted to be picked up constantly. There was one husky kid there, and I pretended my knee was hurt every time I made eye contact with him.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-89151487942674152162010-04-13T14:31:00.000-07:002010-04-13T14:44:15.351-07:00PSF continued: DragonflyAt first, I wasn't going to mention Dragonfly in my blog, but then he tore open his nutsack... and told everyone about it.<br /><br />Even if his name wasn't Dragonfly, he'd still be a hell of a character. It's worth it to mention that he's probably the most knowledgable volunteer at PSF. He speaks fluent Spanish, and has been working in the community for years.<br /><br />I think it's also safe to say, though, that he thinks he knows a little bit more than he does. He's also a Give it 110%, balls to the wall (no pun intended) kind of guy.<br /><br />"Digging this chalk is soul-crushing, spine-shattering labor," he once told us. The guy is a little eccentric to say the least. Did I mention he tore open his nutsack?<br /><br />I guess I'm kind of obligated to tell the story now. Welp, here goes:<br /><br />Note: This story is true. The only way it's made up is if Dragonfly made it up...<br /><br />Dragonfly arrived home late one night (We can only guess what he was doing) to find the door locked. His roomates were asleep inside, and couldn't hear him knocking or throwing rocks at the window.<br /><br />So, clearly, Dragonfly's only option was to climb the 8-foot brick wall (the top of which was adorned, in true Pisco fashion, with shards of glass). Did he tear open his nutsack on said glass, you ask? Dragonfly would chuckle at such simplicity. After all, what's a nutsack injury without an aerial element?!<br /><br />So Dragonfly jumped, and he landed on a sharp, up-pointing stick. If you think about it, it was like a one in a million shot. It's almost like D-fly made a half-court, behind the back shot at halftime to win some money, but not really.<br /><br />Word on the streets of Pisco is that his testicle fell out and he was holding it in his hand, but luckily I wasn't there to corroborate this detail.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-74502047677984459012010-04-13T14:00:00.000-07:002010-04-13T14:44:44.745-07:00Dear Pisco Sin Fronteras,What can I say really? I love you; I hate you. You are a coin with two sides to be certain... kind of like losing my virginity and conceiving an unwanted child at the same time.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Charlie<br /><br />...Here are a few of the contrasting aspects of my time at PSF:<br /><br />I met some truly kind, intelligent, funny and talented people...<br /><br />I met a few I'd rather forget; one example quote: "I don't do drugs, but I want to try Ayahuasca. Sting has done it!"<br /><br />The work was rewarding...<br /><br />3 bathrooms were shared among 80 people, all at varying levels of mud-butt intensity.<br /><br />There was usually a nice breeze...<br /><br />Pisco is as hot, dry and dusty as Sarah Palin's insides.<br /><br />I got to practice my Spanish with some of the volunteers and people in the community...<br /><br />Pisco also smells like Sarah Palin's insides (all she eats is fish guts you know).<br /><br />Despite some of the negative aspects of PSF mentioned above, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. In fact, it was the fucked up parts of my time there that made it so memorable! Here are a few stories and random facts from my Pisco days...<br /><br />At PSF, I had the closest thing to a beard I've ever had. I wish I could grow a Baron Davis beard, but it was really more like a Chauncey Billups beard:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RD7Mf3ewrwgpYhTPADQlT3-dhV3F8Y579ZD2f3Ujm5KIAgHPtfGFHzQY_bTxOoIw07RG1qZIMj4pFctiG3OXM5QlJ7vtgNsKXTw6DlEgciB3uL1OlDycTWtFbPp45AHPZgHvisCB5vq7/s1600/Picture+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459731249197419714" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RD7Mf3ewrwgpYhTPADQlT3-dhV3F8Y579ZD2f3Ujm5KIAgHPtfGFHzQY_bTxOoIw07RG1qZIMj4pFctiG3OXM5QlJ7vtgNsKXTw6DlEgciB3uL1OlDycTWtFbPp45AHPZgHvisCB5vq7/s320/Picture+006.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />...Before basketball one night, my friend Jason from England said something along the lines of: "I've got skills like Magic Jordan." Magic Jordan, now that would be a baller.<br /><br />...I played scrabble (in English) against two Germans and a Finn. I won.<br /><br />...One night, I had to get up about 5 times during the night to pee... out my butt. I knew some sort of illness would eventually strike during my travels. Luckily, I took antibiotics and have been pooping relatively solidly ever since!<br /><br />...It seems that the same handful of songs played over and over again in Pisco. The most catchy of these has to be "Yo no se Mañana" by Luis Enrique. Yo no se Mañana translates to "I don't know tomorrow." I think this is a pretty good lyric. But I do know one thing about tomorrow: I know that tomorrow I'm going to hear the song "Yo no se Mañana."<br /><br />Listen to it here:<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwbmXmRhg1s">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwbmXmRhg1s</a><br /><br />...For this story, I have to introduce a few characters. Frank is a hilarious long-haired British guy in his early twenties. He's always bitching about something, but in a very witty/funny way. Terry is a fifty-something Canadian go-getter. He brought his own tool belt to PSF.<br /><br />Anyway, one day we were all working up at Las Dunas (more on Las Dunas later). I was standing with Terry on a concrete foundation, and Frank was standing by a house about 20 feet away...<br /><br />Terry: "Hey, could you hand me that tool . . . . . . . Nigel."<br /><br />Nigel! It was classic! I could see the process happening in Terry's head:<br /><br />"Oh, darn I forgot his name. What's the most stereotypical British name I can think of? ...Nigel!"<br /><br />And Frank didn't correct him. He just looked at me and said: "Nigel?" and I laughed.Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-55423075457317728222010-04-02T19:13:00.000-07:002010-04-02T20:13:33.305-07:00U.P.F. 2010I know it's been a while since I've blogged, you guys. So before I tell you all about my adventures at Pisco Sin Fronteras, I want to make up for the delay with a very special piece of news...<br /><br />...I can prettymuch get my hair in a ponytail!!!<br /><br />What's that you say? This news is even more exciting than you thought it would be?! Why thank you! I haven't felt this free and rebelious since my rat-tail days of the mid 90's.<br /><br />I know there are some ponytail haters out there, and to you I say this: Bring it on! Everyone knows that once you have a ponytail you automatically get Steven Seagal's martial art skills.<br /><br />In fact, I wonder who would win in an Ultimate Ponytail Face-Off between Steven Seagal and myself...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE2V5xEclzU6NsqjWX5lzKIkJyUAPRaYhN6tNnoT-0keLJe8XduBQOmrfhigkgXDp9k59CL3wcClwvGsiiH7uLRqJSAkqW9hLGAeiIkzkhSOkGQUMEKg79AfiTOT9Pd8-fXXNWrH_u0kyC/s1600/Picture+010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455733943521301634" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE2V5xEclzU6NsqjWX5lzKIkJyUAPRaYhN6tNnoT-0keLJe8XduBQOmrfhigkgXDp9k59CL3wcClwvGsiiH7uLRqJSAkqW9hLGAeiIkzkhSOkGQUMEKg79AfiTOT9Pd8-fXXNWrH_u0kyC/s200/Picture+010.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBE78IlgVATHveue0-1tQ4NaXzBMK5YrptLdyWRkX1q1Z8rpVtCLA4iLVaMa2yyD3C_UrDScXv76xLpZAtmnX3HzK_DsvEMMRyL_5loV2nArQS4dh_XaMZNOv9mdHFQTcrOPGc_yuw823f/s1600/steven_seagal.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455736160438414674" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBE78IlgVATHveue0-1tQ4NaXzBMK5YrptLdyWRkX1q1Z8rpVtCLA4iLVaMa2yyD3C_UrDScXv76xLpZAtmnX3HzK_DsvEMMRyL_5loV2nArQS4dh_XaMZNOv9mdHFQTcrOPGc_yuw823f/s200/steven_seagal.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />He get's a gun?!? No fair!!!<br /><br />Let's see. What would the events be in an Ultimate Ponytail Face-Off?! Hair Braiding? Pony Riding? Staring Contest? How many cinder blocks can you break at once... with your ponytail!?<br /><br />Obviously ass-kicking would be one of the events. Steven Seagal has kicked hundreds of thousands of asses, both onscreen and off. I've almost gotten my ass kicked a few times but managed to talk my way out of it... We'll call that one a draw for now.<br /><br />I know one thing: my ponytail is way thicker and more curly than Steven Seagal's, so if there's an event for that I'll win for sure!<br /><br />Who else would compete in the first and only annual Ultimate Ponytail Face-Off?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhV9h-IC22dIuWW4dv7_wGlDeQlF-tqaD5AJKDbClVAFvvJFz3GyOvkLiMvFT5cjawqNGu1ElSR06kACdtSpJ84c05pQxu1Hjyl27IWt7oxm6zT8iWhpTsI4AEDFmGL8oHOKm-K0T5MOB9/s1600/neil-young.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455736769045649122" style="WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhV9h-IC22dIuWW4dv7_wGlDeQlF-tqaD5AJKDbClVAFvvJFz3GyOvkLiMvFT5cjawqNGu1ElSR06kACdtSpJ84c05pQxu1Hjyl27IWt7oxm6zT8iWhpTsI4AEDFmGL8oHOKm-K0T5MOB9/s200/neil-young.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Neil Young?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQlICCcotrHV00sxOqMRvpK6ukFH6DhWAONPvwlylxMA5xKCBwTYAc_GEWlDtat5BzMijtXIszjX2LTA4zL5kFMHD8QcSOgX1F86FR7kSKOZH0oGvfPm7L6In2AjXANOgcndskxCYLuc8R/s1600/antonio.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455737126360433986" style="WIDTH: 115px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 115px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQlICCcotrHV00sxOqMRvpK6ukFH6DhWAONPvwlylxMA5xKCBwTYAc_GEWlDtat5BzMijtXIszjX2LTA4zL5kFMHD8QcSOgX1F86FR7kSKOZH0oGvfPm7L6In2AjXANOgcndskxCYLuc8R/s200/antonio.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Antonio Banderas? (Disqualified for hair tie infraction)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxSasB1M7XgEFYq0xfR8y6zkM243UQ_mwKW035DuBx6dZZ-8iA-9hWmGNexvu2sHqTExQVdVVLxZ9NTeqnII5eKN_kV4MLKIf9uPyA98rwsBxbWmCd0fXjOlV5ZDeI1P3lNGp1RCoXNfh/s1600/beckham.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455737480124741346" style="WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxSasB1M7XgEFYq0xfR8y6zkM243UQ_mwKW035DuBx6dZZ-8iA-9hWmGNexvu2sHqTExQVdVVLxZ9NTeqnII5eKN_kV4MLKIf9uPyA98rwsBxbWmCd0fXjOlV5ZDeI1P3lNGp1RCoXNfh/s200/beckham.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div><br />David Beckham? (Disqualified for stealing Antonio Banderas's hair tie)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuo_OnThEEo7AS8XXrnt8JNIDljXpMkce0_DKsdidy7bGIqmgYeU8deUIrDfxai5dozKW4FSkfh9LX_qaFfPM7ECz7RE-tNhz30F8dKEZ9z3E0qbSOWsAmewjtFUwgqLMzeBErTtKPabF/s1600/thisguy!.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455737813779710290" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuo_OnThEEo7AS8XXrnt8JNIDljXpMkce0_DKsdidy7bGIqmgYeU8deUIrDfxai5dozKW4FSkfh9LX_qaFfPM7ECz7RE-tNhz30F8dKEZ9z3E0qbSOWsAmewjtFUwgqLMzeBErTtKPabF/s200/thisguy!.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div></div><div><br />I don't know who this guy is, but he's invited!<br /><br />I don't think it would be fair to let Jesus compete. The end. </div><div></div><div></div><div><br />...Stay tuned for more blog posts that are actually relevant to something!</div>Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-75331854056175736882010-03-02T15:51:00.000-08:002010-03-02T18:21:00.214-08:00Arrival in Pisco: White Men Can Kind of JumpThe bus ride from Lima to Pisco was about 4 hours, a nice ass warm-up for some of the longer trips I'll be taking along my journey. There was an 8.0 earthquake in Pisco in 2007, which killed over 400 people and destroyed most of the city's buildings. The organization I'm volunteering with, Pisco Sin Fronteras, coordinates volunteers from all over the world in rebuilding projects around the city, such as homes, schools and sanitation facilities. Volunteers also do other work in the community like teaching english and working at day cares.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNNaD8D39My-9n40-inczFgZWjFSJAcU6sersn-dOm_Yp4OcJCZqmz8szrOyQvdEhXyh311QXLuoPCmqdvUxw1z1J1CAOHQ1rEQrG67m04dzhMXNGqAqnsCR0mF9zm1hGb5empGM1-yIB/s1600-h/IMG_2101.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444211766188280194" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNNaD8D39My-9n40-inczFgZWjFSJAcU6sersn-dOm_Yp4OcJCZqmz8szrOyQvdEhXyh311QXLuoPCmqdvUxw1z1J1CAOHQ1rEQrG67m04dzhMXNGqAqnsCR0mF9zm1hGb5empGM1-yIB/s320/IMG_2101.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The bus ride was beautiful; huge sand dunes separated the Pan American highway from the mighty Pacific. The sun was setting gorgeously as the bus pulled into Pisco. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a photo of this scene, because I'm pretty sure a pair of Peruvians were scheming on stealing my bag. Perhaps I'm just paranoid, but they got on the bus about a half hour outside of Pisco, one sitting next to me and the other behind him.<br /><br />Immediately after sitting down, the man next to me pointed out that there was water on the floor next to my bag. Initially I thought my water bottle had leaked, which would have been devastating (computer, camera), but I checked and my bottle was sealed tighter than Tom Tancredo's sphincter when he walks the streets of Denver alone at night.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF32lvcPxjVTsDWGUtshOeL-RLuVeAtd3C3gAeHCaRyApHJOqYR7y7B-a-jSciv5dYFh3dm0TXzRkOWmnE0RpuQT4JpEY2wAimfyTuTovv1eRvcE2xmbrYasIes9-9KyciTLeuHi7Up8uu/s1600-h/tomtancredo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444215895010186658" style="WIDTH: 93px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF32lvcPxjVTsDWGUtshOeL-RLuVeAtd3C3gAeHCaRyApHJOqYR7y7B-a-jSciv5dYFh3dm0TXzRkOWmnE0RpuQT4JpEY2wAimfyTuTovv1eRvcE2xmbrYasIes9-9KyciTLeuHi7Up8uu/s200/tomtancredo.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />The guy next to me offered to put my bag in the compartment above, and it was at that moment that I realized his buddy behind him had spilled the water on the floor as they boarded the bus, and it was all a plot to steal my luggage... I think. So I clung tight to my backpack for the rest of the ride, and hence, no photo. But here is a photo of the sunset from the next day instead: </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju983yJBEbPky0P-xh9iu9uSIJvFU79fxIyImqzAA1wWsw6ZHkEYT3zHUYz3VvPQH3aEn5CILNWRoT-7PMDZHbqdoohhiAixflFlJ2uUgXbgQtf3njsdqytRlE4UZrYLfk5utlHCMsl6TH/s1600-h/IMG_2169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444213345702126498" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju983yJBEbPky0P-xh9iu9uSIJvFU79fxIyImqzAA1wWsw6ZHkEYT3zHUYz3VvPQH3aEn5CILNWRoT-7PMDZHbqdoohhiAixflFlJ2uUgXbgQtf3njsdqytRlE4UZrYLfk5utlHCMsl6TH/s320/IMG_2169.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><div>I arrived at PSF, and everyone was just finishing dinner. I ate a little bit of chicken stew and chatted with Pete, PSF's volunteer coordinator, who looks like he must have partied with my parents at some point in the past. Since the place was packed with volunteers, I was given a bed in the hallway adjacent to the kitchen, separate from the volunteer house where everyone normally sleeps. I later found out that sleeping here ensures a 6 AM wake up as they begin cooking breakfast. </div><br /><div>After dinner, about half the volunteers were planning to watch "The Never-Ending Story" and half were going to play some basketball. As much as I admire Atreu, I think the giant albino flying dog has haunted enough of my dreams for two lifetimes, and I usually stick to stories that have an ending. Plus I prettymuch busted a nut in my pants then and there when they said basketball rather than football (soccer). So prettymuch fresh out of my taxi, I walked with a few dozen other volunteers a couple blocks to the dusty concrete court. </div><br /><div>The rims had no nets, and the lines on the court were smaller than they should have been, but the lighting system was actually quite impressive. We split up into 3 teams of 6-7 players each and began playing. Most of the people volunteering here are European, so there was some serious soccer-style defense going on. I'm pretty sure a couple people thought dribbling wasn't allowed. Despite the general lack of anyone knowing what the fuck they were doing, it was still quite fun, especially because everyone here is so darn friendly... one British guy smiled sheepishly after innocently hip-checking me to the ground on a drive. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>In the second or third game, I had a break-away. There was one defender under the hoop who luckily decided not to undercut me. Wearing a hat, pants and hiking shoes, I went up for what was generally agreed upon by everyone there as the first dunk in Pisco history. I was pretty happy with my first impression!</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br />I got back to my bed, sweaty as hell. There is no running water after 8 pm in the building I was staying in, and I didn't feel at that point like walking over to the volunteer house to shower. Also, considering my surroundings, it felt fitting to go to bed filthier than a Rodney Dangerfield daydream. I forgot to mention, along with the crack of dawn wake up, the hallway is also frequented by a rat as well as a handful of flies and mosquitos. It's also quite hot and my bed was about as soft as a boner... and I couldn't have been happier.</div></div>Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-52008471410844793882010-02-28T08:53:00.000-08:002010-02-28T16:58:52.695-08:00Leaving LimaI've been gradually stepping down in luxury since my arrival in South America. As I mentioned in my first post, I got to sit first class (which also included a dish of warm nuts, which I forgot to mention). In Lima, I stayed in what is probably the nicest hostel in the world: HQ Villa <a href="http://www.hqvilla.com/">http://www.hqvilla.com/</a> (& it's cheap too: 5 bucks a night for a dorm bed including breakfast). Short of warming up my nuts, this hostel was just as cushy as first class.<br /><br />Prettymuch everyone I met there spoke English, and the only chance I got to practice my Spanish was in taxis. On a few of the days, I found myself laying around all day in the comfort of the hostel, and then partying at night. I'm glad I got out of there when I did. Don't get me wrong, I definitely enjoyed my time at HQ Villa, it's just that after only a week there I was starting to feel like Robert Downey Jr.<br /><br />So last Thursday, I left my friends in Lima behind and headed 3-4 hours south on a bus to Pisco. 2 years ago, there was an earthquake here that devastated the city. I'm volunteering with an organization called Pisco Sin Fronteras <a href="http://www.piscosinfronteras.org/">http://www.piscosinfronteras.org/</a>. More on Pisco later. First, I'll tell you about my last few days in Lima, along with some other random thoughts.<br /><br />It is quite humid here in South America, and my hair is getting out of hand. I'm starting to look like Little Richard, except white and without musical talent, so more like Kenny G. Just wait though, the white man jheri curl is gonna spread like wildfire starting the day I get back.<br /><br />One night, a bunch of us went out to a dance club in Miraflores. While we were at the club, no one attempted to roofie me, which was nice, but at the same time it kind of hurt my feelings. I approached a few groups of girls off the bat and got immediately shot down, which reminded me of my glory days in Boulder. After strikes one and two, I found success with a few Peruvian ladies who were each about 4'9''. Being as tall as I am, I imagine this was quite an amusing scene to watch, perhaps similar to watching Shawn Bradley try to play defense. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdPstztPkLA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdPstztPkLA</a><br /><br />I met a lot of cool people in Lima from all over the place. One guy from Australia works as a tour guide at a sewage treatment plant. Guy talks shit for a living! I thought: "Who would pay to look at shit?" but then I realized you get to smell it too, and it all made sense. Crazy Aussies!<br /><br />Another person staying at the hostel, Ivan, is deaf and dumb, but he has visited over 70 countries! He was born in Peru and lived most of his life in England. A conversation with Ivan consists of a pen and pad or a computer.<br /><br />Oh, we went back to the museum the next day, and I think our story of failure and perseverance inspired some people, because our group grew from 3 to 8. The aprehension of glorious redemption made it even worse, though, when we were told that most of the museum was still closed, and would be for six months. Could they not have told us that the day before? We did get to see a few exhibits: Some colorful dresses and vests, some ceramics, and a depressing but interesting photo exhibit about the Shining Path/Government conflict of a few decades ago. Better than nothing I guess...<br /><br />A few photos from the museum:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMZX90VdX_FJN9vVmCdwu7iwBUBpyRTyGUGDXydNU9Tyr4KvpJ2c0GvU3Vau0vgzc2GO3zd5VFbx4rgj3sfQ_bQG-d3zq2h1LwX_PrO6xVNqfqK0Iw8bvKmGUwGhyio-tkdHKofvmcIzv/s1600-h/IMG_2045.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443458140721636354" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMZX90VdX_FJN9vVmCdwu7iwBUBpyRTyGUGDXydNU9Tyr4KvpJ2c0GvU3Vau0vgzc2GO3zd5VFbx4rgj3sfQ_bQG-d3zq2h1LwX_PrO6xVNqfqK0Iw8bvKmGUwGhyio-tkdHKofvmcIzv/s320/IMG_2045.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Shining Path photo:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUaYE1i38gQ0Z5RdJSriNNRr5HLO8XtO05N5hC-XL_kF084f5oNXUMKvzEEX3dmSZCJMyqahqcdb1BkeBQASJPtmBNnHdCh7yGSDWLnrAxxCXXUFASclbEkiPJNgbTOh8Gj6P9FPKMoRP/s1600-h/IMG_2069.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443459416342867362" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUaYE1i38gQ0Z5RdJSriNNRr5HLO8XtO05N5hC-XL_kF084f5oNXUMKvzEEX3dmSZCJMyqahqcdb1BkeBQASJPtmBNnHdCh7yGSDWLnrAxxCXXUFASclbEkiPJNgbTOh8Gj6P9FPKMoRP/s320/IMG_2069.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p>Maybe the coolest "exhibit" at the museum was the elevator of mirrors!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeos4tVUxjfybLGngZEXASvPXa7MKfr-WuoNvfv_1vt81XRlA5t8E91syTbfdpfcikIwo5IN0D3FCHjW2qGKLaS7U4nKdJRRrV-rtJaDLzYO_tq15qerTLBHxx1HsmQbdXRzwozcgBhXSL/s1600-h/IMG_2074.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443460738708467266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeos4tVUxjfybLGngZEXASvPXa7MKfr-WuoNvfv_1vt81XRlA5t8E91syTbfdpfcikIwo5IN0D3FCHjW2qGKLaS7U4nKdJRRrV-rtJaDLzYO_tq15qerTLBHxx1HsmQbdXRzwozcgBhXSL/s320/IMG_2074.JPG" border="0" /></a> </p><p>More about my time in Pisco so far coming soon!</p>Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-81694559937297250612010-02-22T13:52:00.000-08:002010-02-22T15:51:20.496-08:00Museum AdventureToday, I decided to go to one of Lima's many fine museums with a few friends from the hostel. The one we decided on, El Museo de la Nacion, houses "three levels of extensive exhibits about all manner of Peruvian heritage," according to my nifty guide book. Splendid! The next step was deciding how to get there.<br /><br />There are as many taxis in Lima as there are white folks for them to take advantage of. Having paid probably double what I should have to get from the airport to my hostel on Thursday, I said to myself: "Girlfriend, you ain't gonna let them step all over you like that again!" So I decided to take one of the buses, which are almost as numerous as taxis and much cheaper. Plus they are a good place to rub up against strangers.<br /><br />These mini buses are a little bigger than a volkswagen bus and fit about 47 more people. My legs didn't fit in the seats, and I couldn't stand up straight in the aisle, so I stood in a position halfway between taking a dump and triple-threat position in basketball.<br /><br />Inside the bus:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcDkcceaUvYCXHyDcdCch9jxupl59Cx4e7ZaZYLjBSjlnJqVQutrofrNUeko6c7MDc1K9J0aGApxFlb4odOoj9kVwoAQHazqI3AjbDOXVSr1CY1NJyiMBzTnzT_luaOuwEJZZb0ScWfXu/s1600-h/IMG_2036.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441216985595876386" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcDkcceaUvYCXHyDcdCch9jxupl59Cx4e7ZaZYLjBSjlnJqVQutrofrNUeko6c7MDc1K9J0aGApxFlb4odOoj9kVwoAQHazqI3AjbDOXVSr1CY1NJyiMBzTnzT_luaOuwEJZZb0ScWfXu/s320/IMG_2036.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>We took two of these packed rides to the general location of the museum, then walked the rest of the way, which consisted of crossing a few streets. Being from Boulder, naturally I strolled out into traffic thinking vehicles would stop, but then I almost died a few times and realized that cars/trucks/buses/hybrid-motorcycle-rickshaw-mobiles in fact rule the streets here.<br /><br />hybrid-motorcycle-rickshaw-mobile:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZfV4lj92nqKQmmmXFgdQkqoVnCNgqQNPP_UJLeYNlDQ9T9DszrqFbdSC_GKBfEvELOPPz9PrGbyei5An-YyI_lEh45u10d-kLs77xQjpAqvn6ors5QMHjgdqOUaDg8fBMNrc2hCNGXmP/s1600-h/IMG_2035.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441208960940626290" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZfV4lj92nqKQmmmXFgdQkqoVnCNgqQNPP_UJLeYNlDQ9T9DszrqFbdSC_GKBfEvELOPPz9PrGbyei5An-YyI_lEh45u10d-kLs77xQjpAqvn6ors5QMHjgdqOUaDg8fBMNrc2hCNGXmP/s320/IMG_2035.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Traffic in Lima is a cluster-fuck to say the least. Also, drivers often honk/yell/whistle at attractive young folks; needless to say this created a problem for my group of friends, because they were with me. I don't know how many times I heard "Pinche gringo!" which I'm pretty sure translates to: "You look like a combination of Brad Pitt and Fabio!"<br /><br />I was pretty proud of myself for making it to the museum without getting lost or having to buy a taxi driver's friendship. And most of all, I was excited to see the museum's massive collection, because next to unprotected sexual escapades and needle sharing, viewing artifacts is the best way to get to know a foreign culture! - (Just kidding mom. Of course I use condoms - I know of no better way to transport coke in my ass.)<br /><br />So I was all hot and bothered to see some art. But when we tried to enter the museum, we found out that it's closed on Mondays. I was about ready to bitch-slap whoever wrote my guide book, but then I looked and it says the museum is open Tuesday through Sunday. Apparently Monday is the new Sunday for museum folk.<br /><br />So, after sitting on the steps of the museum feeling dejected, we decided to take a few more buses into central Lima, where we saw the outside of another closed museum, and then walked around a few different parks, which was nice. There were many interesting statues in the parks, including this one, which I renamed:<br /><br />"Abe Lincoln gets a pearl necklace"<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOj4BHmIGy5Sp-Pcu5pkTYoTA7C7j4tcaimLi3NMgpt6QYcJaYzt-A8pXSONgOXywFTXCmyyoaTEP_6JaYPo_3xDmzSkuZFV85ZAV74zfcC8-E4tU3yynx8gMd2LBfj1S1ByktB71O5vz/s1600-h/IMG_1996.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441207320589741314" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOj4BHmIGy5Sp-Pcu5pkTYoTA7C7j4tcaimLi3NMgpt6QYcJaYzt-A8pXSONgOXywFTXCmyyoaTEP_6JaYPo_3xDmzSkuZFV85ZAV74zfcC8-E4tU3yynx8gMd2LBfj1S1ByktB71O5vz/s320/IMG_1996.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here are a few more photos I took in central Lima:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPkS8S6zaT-Aqtml3Im9sJmSZOsFTNN00hd_vf6qITJzH4xD13DbUzim-cysrLuMa_qoti0eI6bMeuVq5Ts7pvP02cXFjjqhuqp6w2MVid0FlFZKC8ndR_16q_L-_vyyWeRl-vyaq2RCO/s1600-h/IMG_1980.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441210249262438322" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPkS8S6zaT-Aqtml3Im9sJmSZOsFTNN00hd_vf6qITJzH4xD13DbUzim-cysrLuMa_qoti0eI6bMeuVq5Ts7pvP02cXFjjqhuqp6w2MVid0FlFZKC8ndR_16q_L-_vyyWeRl-vyaq2RCO/s320/IMG_1980.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhRzZDMvo1JE4CvNib9afDTl1fGEWKN1b3U1fhVA4MImtjPyqh0kQtDc4H38a4AnxR253RJHOHXOqXJ4U2n6K6uIbGD5jnVre4l5BzYhs3fRVGm4MwVDuP61fSzw6iI7xKsOp3WHd96zk/s1600-h/IMG_2030.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441212239739495010" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhRzZDMvo1JE4CvNib9afDTl1fGEWKN1b3U1fhVA4MImtjPyqh0kQtDc4H38a4AnxR253RJHOHXOqXJ4U2n6K6uIbGD5jnVre4l5BzYhs3fRVGm4MwVDuP61fSzw6iI7xKsOp3WHd96zk/s320/IMG_2030.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dn2LW2WYXwU4NbwDcsDmhtoT9xAAywCzXMlmEALkQq4OrCXQmOCxIl3JRrv54GkSgb9emImVnrlehE004wHtAUgVrwBmYz8b2sZ2rpCPGx2l3iuawRvfcnyBHywtEvHUlqSSxq36s_BR/s1600-h/IMG_1981.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441210818074387170" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dn2LW2WYXwU4NbwDcsDmhtoT9xAAywCzXMlmEALkQq4OrCXQmOCxIl3JRrv54GkSgb9emImVnrlehE004wHtAUgVrwBmYz8b2sZ2rpCPGx2l3iuawRvfcnyBHywtEvHUlqSSxq36s_BR/s320/IMG_1981.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAy3gAE8fnmMZTm1i-rP5YE-b850zkedU4_QWfvmDYRhB-BYLLyts3IALUINp23kVKKJA76hE1CKTbJBXgWDN8mBTtpDf1Yb5ccYTlAknIvvwG1KGc8sOidh0m4-joKnCf-zPIEop_7mG/s1600-h/IMG_2020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441211622026030466" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNAy3gAE8fnmMZTm1i-rP5YE-b850zkedU4_QWfvmDYRhB-BYLLyts3IALUINp23kVKKJA76hE1CKTbJBXgWDN8mBTtpDf1Yb5ccYTlAknIvvwG1KGc8sOidh0m4-joKnCf-zPIEop_7mG/s320/IMG_2020.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HqAUFRR6vXI0P9CKizTD7oICbnfLuoA-IiqOkT6NrZnIPm1RvYmUAtOXAqXQQbSQD5yi-A-Dd-ZxaYVuVvTAYnQ23dBMiue6b4PoCD7eCDgRJe0KviYaWu1W4QEllYbma5hsAsyuh6_D/s1600-h/IMG_2032.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441212801693514450" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HqAUFRR6vXI0P9CKizTD7oICbnfLuoA-IiqOkT6NrZnIPm1RvYmUAtOXAqXQQbSQD5yi-A-Dd-ZxaYVuVvTAYnQ23dBMiue6b4PoCD7eCDgRJe0KviYaWu1W4QEllYbma5hsAsyuh6_D/s320/IMG_2032.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5kKIcn3zZNeKj6YSyXzrFUXwVpT33rSFHisXutndZgjTRC3PpX93upEPPI-Sp5v-tT_nqw3lCjl02_ilHZhZJJnCHivEHXNAHDnybZF4mTKef-RfzOwJAIc7AVmpFIOs_u9RKVtKAnth/s1600-h/IMG_1998.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441213335230552018" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5kKIcn3zZNeKj6YSyXzrFUXwVpT33rSFHisXutndZgjTRC3PpX93upEPPI-Sp5v-tT_nqw3lCjl02_ilHZhZJJnCHivEHXNAHDnybZF4mTKef-RfzOwJAIc7AVmpFIOs_u9RKVtKAnth/s320/IMG_1998.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Headed back to the museum tomorrow; Wish me luck!</div>Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554323631793370336.post-30229637968955646222010-02-20T21:54:00.000-08:002010-02-20T23:59:26.512-08:00The shoesand the journey begins!<br /><br />...I was fortunate enough to get hooked up with a killer deal on plane tickets (I'm forever grateful; you know who you are!) And the best part was: with a little luck, I'd end up sitting first class for the first time ever!<br /><br />This amazing deal came with a few stipulations, one of them being my physical appearance. As you may know, I tend to look rather disheveled a good portion of the time, and basically, if any of the airline employees thought I was a transient, they could kick me off the flight, and forever cast me in the role of the prick who says he's gonna travel the world but never does. I clearly could not let this happen.<br /><br />Obviously, step one was to tame the wild beast known as my hair. This was a challenge, but possible.<br /><br />Step two: Come up with a half-way decent outfit. Easy enough.<br /><br />Step three: The shoes. The shoes presented me with quite the dilemna, mainly due to space. I simply don't have room to lug a pair of dress shoes with me around South America. The solution you ask? I'm glad you asked!<br /><br />I don't mean to brag, but this idea was fuckin genius. I'll snag a pair of dress shoes, look like I belong on the plane, and ditch 'em once I get there!<br /><br />So the day before I left, I headed to Savers, and wouldn't you know it, they were having a half-off sale! Half off at Savers is like a hooker paying YOU for sex. Just kidding, kids. Prostitution is no laughing matter. But you adults know what I'm talking about, right? . . . Am I right?! . . . No? Ok, my bad.<br /><br />Anyway, apparently a lot of people with large feet were looking for jobs that day, because the only decent-looking pair I could find was size 10 1/2. I wear a 12. I think they were pretty big for a 10 1/2, because my feet were barely crushed squeezing into them. Still the best 4 dollars I ever spent. Seriously, 4 bucks.<br /><br />The next day I headed to the airport, with the taste of freedom on the tip of my tongue and the throbbing ache of independence on the tips of my toes, or something.<br /><br />The first leg of my journey was Denver to Atlanta. I strolled up to my gate, lookin' fly, actin as though the odor of my feces was pleasant. And yeah, you guessed it. They gave me my boarding pass without a hassle. I looked at my ticket: "20F; that's a little far back for first-mothafuckin-class," I thought.<br /><br />I boarded the plane and was horrified that I didn't get the first class seat that wasn't promised to me. I sulked down into my chair, surrounded by other poor people, dreams temporarily crushed. Soon though, I heard an announcement from one of the flight attendants: "The following passengers have been upgraded to first class..."<br /><br />"Boo-ya," I thought.<br /><br />She proceeded to call the names of three assholes who weren't me. Damn.<br /><br />...I only had about an hour to enjoy the Atlanta airport (the busiest in the world). My short stay in the dirty south was great, but where I was headed was dirtier. And souther.<br /><br />The Atlanta to Lima flight was less crowded, and I ended up in first class! I'm pretty sure I was served like four meals during the six hour flight, and I was offered a hot washcloth at least twice...oh, you better believe I accepted! I know as much about wine as Craig Sager knows about fashion (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltpqPd3t5V0">example of Sager's fashion sense</a>) but I thought the Chardonnay was delicious. All in all, I'd sum up first class as ridiculously over-indulgent. Anyone who actually pays for that shit can kiss my ass... it was pretty cool though.<br /><br />Luckily, the seat next to me was empty. Across the row, however, was an elderly affluent couple, the husband of which stared at me prettymuch the entire flight. I would have gotten a picture of him to post on here, but the hate in his eyes surely would have rendered my camera useless.<br /><br />"How did this God-damn hippie get into first class?" he yelled. Actually he didn't say that, but I'm pretty sure it's what he was thinking.<br /><br />I arrived in Lima around midnight local time. I would have begged to stay on the plane and live in first class forever, but I couldn't wait to get the god-forsaken shoes off my feet. I went in the first bathroom I could find and took them off.<br /><br />I left the shoes in the bathroom of the Jorge Chavez International Airport.<br /><br />I'd like to think an airport employee found those shoes, and they gave him the confidence to ditch his job cleaning airport bathrooms and chase his dream of performing in the Peruvian ballet, except instead of ballet shoes, he wears an old pair of dress shoes, but no one cares, because he dances with such passion.<br /><br />But who knows.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacnxh86eibAzca07D86-bVLJKyoYZKzJhFU1TQ4Ntxye6NJdOZvCYhiZvW5drVybFkcMOcHJYpJdHbBKv2Jrsj3odIteQCVuN61fSvktg-58kOLgvfyCmjj6-SPncgkRmrQ_cd-Ra6eh2/s1600-h/IMG_1872.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440594393490029074" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacnxh86eibAzca07D86-bVLJKyoYZKzJhFU1TQ4Ntxye6NJdOZvCYhiZvW5drVybFkcMOcHJYpJdHbBKv2Jrsj3odIteQCVuN61fSvktg-58kOLgvfyCmjj6-SPncgkRmrQ_cd-Ra6eh2/s320/IMG_1872.JPG" border="0" /></a>Charlie Angelohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17390103237172233146noreply@blogger.com5