It Ain’t Over Til the Fir Tree Falls

There are far too few parties, in my opinion at least, that involve machetes. To her credit, Peru does incorporate the machete into more social functions than most countries, my favorite of which is the Unsha. Called by many different names depending upon which part of the country you live in, the Unsha (as it is called here in San Miguel), is a sacred and time-honored tradition. It comes about during Carnival season (the weeks leading up to and surrounding Ash Wednesday on the Christian calendar), and for us marks the last few days of celebration.

I actually began a blog entry about this event last year, but was so exhausted/overwhelmed/awestruck by the entire Carnival experience that I couldn’t muster the energy to finish it. This time around I knew what to expect and was able to participate in the events like the seasoned veteran I believe myself to be. I was worried that this year’s Carnival experience wouldn’t live up to last year´s, simply because the factor of “the unknown” was eliminated.

That was not the case. This year proved just as insane and exhilarating, perhaps even more so because we were able to plan properly. We prepared the necessities (paint, buckets, water guns, water balloons, old clothes) in advance and were able to put ourselves in strategic locations before others could target us.

Malicious tots looking for a nice gringo target...

but we would not go down without a fight!

If you were reading my blog this time last year, you know that Carnival is celebrated longer, harder and more earnestly here in Cajamarca than anywhere else in the country. I won’t repeat all the details again (reference my blog from February 2010 if you didn’t already read about it) but will just say that 2011 did not disappoint.

This year the “Peace Corps Volunteer Tribe” took to the streets, joining into the parade with the rest of the tribes and marched through the streets, leaving paint-streaked cars, buildings and people in our wake. I even made it onto national TV by giving a thoughtful and profound interview with a reporter! Okay, okay, perhaps one would call it unintelligible low-brow more so than thoughtful and profound, but a national TV appearance is still a national TV appearance.

Tribe Gringo, approximately 25-deep

Of course, there is always some fraternizing with the enemy

Although it did not disappoint, this year’s Carnival celebration had a bittersweet flavor for me, as it was the last one I’ll get to participate in. After discovering the unexpected joy of it all last year, I had a full year to look forward to the next one. Now that it’s over, I am sad to feel the void of that anticipation. But just as I come to fully realize this fact, the good ol’ Unsha sweeps in to cheer me up! As aforementioned, the Unshas come around during the days following Ash Wednesday, when nearly every “neighborhood” (aka street) in town plans their own Unsha party.

The process is this: in the morning the neighborhood’s Unsha-planner tramples out to the woods and hunts down a proper tree: typically medium-sized with a skinny trunk and ample branches. The lucky tree is then hauled back, where it is literally planted in the middle of the street. That’s right, we jack-hammer a hole in the middle of the street, dig a hole there and plant the tree as naturally as if it had grown there.

Before the Unsha tree can be raised, however, it is filled with presents! The quality of presents depends upon the fiscal situation of the Unsha-planner and his/her committee, as they pay for everything. For this, you really don’t want to end up as the planner (I’ll explain shortly how one actually becomes the planner). Mostly you see house-hold goods in the tree, such as buckets, brooms, blankets, etc., as we have to rely on things you can actually buy in San Miguel (alas, Target has yet to set up shop here).

Once the tree, presents and decorations included, has been raised, the real fun begins. After night-fall, the neighborhood residents and friends start gathering around the tree, along with… you guessed it, a marching band. As the band plays, everyone dances around the tree and revels in post-Carnival glee. Somewhere around 2 am, the machete finally makes its appearance. The Unsha-planner is given the machete, and, after several speeches, takes a whack at the trunk of the tree. The machete is then passed to everyone present and each gets a shot at the trunk.

Your goal is actually not to knock down the tree, as the last person to hit the trunk before it falls inherits the title of Unsha-planner for the following year. And the townsfolk do NOT forget who was wielding the machete when the tree came tumbling down. But it’s also an honor to be Unsha-planner, and the chosen one nearly always accepts the responsibility as such. Plus everyone else wins when the tree does finally fall, because then there is a free-for-all on the presents! You wouldn’t believe the rush that ensues to grab whatever you can from the tree branches, as if that plastic bucket is its worth its weight in gold.

To summarize, we drink for 4-5 hours, then swinging a machete around a tightly-packed group of people… good wholesome fun, really. Just one more reason I love this place and will miss its ridiculous traditions. I´ve participated in many Unshas now, and I´m happy to say that I have never gotten stuck with the final blow… but boy have I enjoyed watching it fall.

Oh Carnival, thanks for the memories!

Summer is here and the weather is (not so) beautiful...

After several false starts through December and January, rainy season has finally taken control of life as we know it here in San Miguel. Between coalition forces of rain, fog and mist, we haven’t seen sun here in weeks. While my fellow volunteers living in coastal Peru suffer the sweltering heat of another summer without air conditioning, we serranos are bundling up in three, four, sometimes five layers of clothing… and we look GOOD!

The good news: it’s been so cold and rainy that pre-carnival antics have been miraculously calm; even tween boys don’t want to brave the great outdoors to throw their balloons and buckets of water. At present count, I’ve only been hit by TWO balloons so far this year – yee haw! Of course, the carnival climax isn’t until March this year, much to my chagrin, so I am probably jinxing myself here.

The bad news: the weather has brought all ambition to a screeching halt. Kids are out of school for summer vacation, most of the town has gone to seek refuge with extended family on the coast, and those left behind have zero motivation to leave the house. Needless to say, I have found myself with a bit more time on my hands.

While I am still trying my hardest to keep projects up and running, there is only so much you can do when enthusiasm is limited. After all, Peru has taught me that projects are must successful and sustainable when you can convince locals that it was their idea to begin with. So instead of pushing against it, I have decided to embrace this slower pace of life for the month. Part of the Peace Corps experience is a cultural exchange, and I’m grabbing onto that with both hands.

My revised agenda now includes things that I have wanted to do for over a year but haven’t managed the time. Host Mom is taking me under her wing in the kitchen, teaching me the delicate art of Peruvian cuisine… including how to make ceviche. Yikes! I am finally learning how to weave from my artisans, which is also an interesting, if not completely successful, endeavor. I made friends with the local women’s group, and we have started a lecture series (with yours truly as the lecturer, of course) in which they ask to hear about topics such as personal savings plans and even environmental protection. I am also making lots of house calls these days. As the only person in town with a rain jacket, I am afforded more freedom of movement and take advantage of it with little visits and chats. This may be my favorite new rainy season ritual. Not only do I get to have intimate conversations with my neighbors, but I have found that I am always greeted with food. Win-win, really.

So maybe I’m not working 9-to-5 these days, and maybe attendance at my meetings is at an all-time low (we’re talking 20%), but I’ve found a way to fill the hours in a more fulfilling way than I ever imagined. By embracing the down time, I feel more connected to this community and its people than ever before. Even better than being “professor,” I can just be daughter, sister, neighbor and friend.

One GREAT thing about this time of year: mango season!

At least the rains make my lovely town even lovelier...

but often we can't even see the green hills through the fog

Host Bro and I get lots of Q.T. these days

No raincoat? No problem... grab a tarp.

Here I am, weaving myself a rug!

Some new friends in the women's group

At least construction on our rehabilitation center is still underway!

Spending my free time in the hammock... and spreading the joy of pop rocks to the youth of Peru

Thanksgiving 2010: Turkey, Stuffing and Frog Milkshakes

This Thanksgiving I made my way down south, to the department of Arequipa. And when I say south, I mean waaaaaay south; Cajamarca could not be further away if it tried. While we share a border with Ecuador, Arequipa is practically a part of Chile.

They also like to think of themselves as their own separate country, joking that passports are required to enter their “independent republic.” Kind of like Texas, if you will, which is one more reason to love it. Another reason: Arequipa is renowned for their delicious food. From ceviche to rocoto relleno (a wonderfully spicy pepper stuffed with beef and cheese) to queso helado (literally translates to frozen cheese, which sounds gross but is oh-so-good), Arequipa is sure to burst your buttons. What better place to celebrate Thanksgiving, no?

This trip was scheduled over a year ago, upon learning that two volunteers would be placed there with a family that runs a buffet restaurant… I’ve been drooling in anticipation ever since.

The city of Arequipa, second largest in Peru, is stunningly beautiful, with mountainous views, cobble-stone streets and gleaming white buildings (it is nicknamed “The White City,” as most of its buildings are constructed from a white volcanic rock called sillar).

While I was chiefly concerned with what, exactly, I would eat in Arequipa, I completely forgot to do any research on what else there is to see and do there. Fortunately for us, our volunteer friend John met us in the city and gave us the grand tour. John just happens to be an aspiring Chef, so our tour was actually 78% food-related, which was a-ok me.

Just a couple of "yankees" down from the north

Our fantastic tour-guide John, coincidentally, is from the Independent Republic of Texas

Plaza de Armas at dusk

Between stuffing ourselves silly every two to three hours, we managed to see the sights, including a tour of the beautifully medieval Monastery, dating back to the 1500’s. One of the highlights of the tour was our trip to the local market, which I always love in Peru. There is so much bustling about, as locals buy and sell their produce, meats, spices and just about anything else you could require. Plus, there’s always that one unique feature that identifies a city within its market stalls. In Iquitos, it was the witch-craft loot. In Arequipa, the frog milkshake stand fills that role. Said to relieve stress, the shake consists of a whole frog, skinned, sautéed (but not gutted or de-boned) and puréed with a milk-like substance.

In the end, it’s not a bad little snack, except that it’s hot, slightly lumpy and everyone is aware of the fact that it’s made from frog guts. In addition, your appetite is somewhat curbed by watching them kill the live frogs right in front of you. This involves pulling one unlucky fellow from an aquarium, banging him against a table a few times, then in a rapid flurry of movements, the skin is peeled off in one foul swoop. After that, it’s into the frying pan for you, my little friend! As for the stress-relief, I’m not so sure about that, unless you really despise frogs and wish them ill will.

The lovely Monastery

More fun things for sale in the Market: Alpaca!

The "frog juice" stand

A cute fake frog amongst the real ones...to lighten up the mood, I suppose?

If you look closely, you'll see the froggy in his right hand, literally on his last legs. HaHa.

On Thanksgiving morning, we made our way to Chivay, where a group of 18 people were waiting in the restaurant to begin cooking. The owners of the restaurant, Enrique and Amanda, were so excited about our presence there that they gave us complete access to the kitchen and all of its equipment, even pulling out chef’s uniforms for all of us to don. Dividing responsibilities, we made the most perfect Thanksgiving spread, with turkey, stuffing, gravy, cranberry, mashed potatoes, biscuits and more. Take a dozen or so semi-starved Peace Corps volunteers and throw them into an opportunity like this, and you’re sure to have some serious over-indulgence on your hands, almost bordering on the obscene. Most of us were forced to adopt the gross-Peruvian-man technique of lifting up the shirt and appreciatively rubbing the belly.

On the ride to Chivay, we passed over this spot, which is over 16,000 feet above sea level. It's what I imagine Mars to look like.

Tasted even better than it looks!

In order to feel slightly better about our gluttonous behavior the day before, we spent most of Friday on a “bike and hike” excursion (only after starting the morning off with espresso and left-over pie). Chivay just happens to be at the base of the Colca Canyon, which is the deepest in the world. In your face Grand Canyon! We spent the next few days touring different Peace Corps sites around the canyon, taking in the sights and even accidentally stumbling upon a giant condor up close, which are famous in the area (some tourists come just for this, and spend hours or sometimes days looking for them). Then it was back to the city for a last 24-hour session of stuffing our faces… or fatting up for the winter, as I like to think of it.

Sharing the roads with local ladies and local llamas

Colca Canyon

Most homes here are built out of stone, and blend in perfectly with the lanscape

Typical dress of Arequipa

Our bike ride took us to some pre-Incan tombs... creepy

Bones everywhere

According to local custom, I left my offering

Kristen's site, Cabanaconde, is the starting point for most hikes into the Canyon

Our accidental condor sighting

This trip just reminded me why Thanksgiving is my personal favorite. It is the underdog of holidays, Christmas’s red-headed stepchild. But it is the most genuine of holidays… no gifts, no jingles, just food. And family, of course. Many thanks to Jean, Russ, John, Kristen, Enrique, Amanda and all the others who welcomed us into their Arequipa family.

Now, as we all know, Thanksgiving is all about sharing, so I give to you all the delectable recipe for frog milkshakes (roughly translated into American ingredients), just in case you want to serve them at your next get-together. Provecho!

• 1 large frog, skinned and sautéed over a low flame (see first photo below)
• 1 TBSP honey
• 1 cup of ground cereal
• 2 tsp Bee Pollen
• 1 tsp chocolate syrup
• 2 cups soy milk
• 1 whole, uncracked, quail egg (see second photo below)

Throw all ingredients into a blender, mixing until (somewhat) smooth and creamy. Enjoy with friends!

Missed Opportunities

I’ve had a tough run of luck in 2010. This year alone, I have lost, broken or been robbed of three bank cards, two iPods, one passport, four computer chargers, one digital camera, two sets of house keys, one pair of shoes, three cell phones and one laptop.

Granted, I’ve never been accused of being overly careful with my personal possessions, but this seems a little excessive, even for me. I am convinced that all of Peru is conspiring against me… and then laughing heartily as I discover just how difficult it is to replace ANYTHING in this country. It often involves a trip to Lima, double the amount of money it would cost in the U.S., and weeks of waiting (or sometimes months, in the case of a passport or bank card). Don’t even get me started on the paperwork involved. I once tried to exchange a shirt for a different size here, the same exact shirt mind you, and it took me two hours, four store employees and no less than seven signed documents to accomplish my task.

I’m not sure if it’s a mistrust issue, arising from years of dealing with poverty and corruption, but Peruvians absolutely adore official documentation. If you want to meet with the director of the High School, for example, you must first take three copies of a meeting request to his secretary, each stamped and signed, and she will in return stamp and sign all copies, keeping one for the director, one for their files and the final for you. All this just to request a meeting… the actual meeting itself involves lots more paper, stamps and signatures. At first the process left me befuddled, but now I have been converted. I won’t even consider attending a meeting in town unless the proper channels have been executed via my secretary (aka host brother, Jhon). And I’m even on my second pad of stamp ink!

Anyhow, back to the issue at hand: my losses over the course of this year. Although the laptop was arguably the greatest setback (I mean, how else am I expected to watch all those bootlegs DVDs I’ve acquired?), a recent loss has utterly brought me to my knees. Somehow, both of my camera chargers have disappeared. With dead batteries and no way to charge them, my picture-taking has come to a screeching halt. New and hilarious events cross my path daily, yet I have no way of capturing them. Tragic. Absolutely tragic.

To add insult to serious injury, the last two months have been filled with more ridiculousness than I could have ever hoped for. Considering I am literally the only one in town who finds life in San Miguel odd and entertaining, I simply must share these things with outsiders. I realize the effect is not nearly the same without visuals, but in the interest of continuing to blog about this amusing life, I shall do my best to portray what my lenses currently cannot.

Top Things I’ve Wanted to Capture on Film, But Couldn’t:

1. The “New” Ferris-Wheel. While I mentioned in a previous blog that this year’s festival was essentially the same as 2009’s, I overlooked one major detail. This year included one additional joy for the kiddies… a shiny new ferris-wheel! Well, calling it new might be a slight exaggeration. Each seat consisted of two pieces of plywood roughly slapped together with rusty nails. I can only assume it was put together for the World’s Fair Paris, 1889.

Best part… are you ready for this?... the wheel was turned not by a motor, but by two guys grabbing the sides and pulling down in swift motions. I kid you not. The two guys did this for hours on end, night after night. I feel sure this provided more entertainment for me than for the kiddies riding on the archaic disaster-waiting-to-happen. “Sure you don’t want to hop on?” the wheel turners asked me multiple times, as I hovered around like a creep. No thanks… think I’ll stick to the firework towers for now.

2. Trick-or-Treat. If you read my blog from last year, you will know that Peru doesn’t celebrate Halloween, they celebrate Day of the Dead and All-Saints Day. Remember, party in the cemetery, complete with dancing, hot dog vendors and campfires? While this is all well and good, I still missed the traditions from my native land.

So I lectured to a few kids in San Miguel about costumes, going door-to-door and the bags full of candy that we know and love in the U.S. It was early October at that point, so I had forgotten all about it until Halloween day arrived and one of the little boys called me from his mom’s cell phone to schedule a time for his “trick or treat appointment.” Thank heavens I had just received a huge bag of candy from my aunt in the States, or else I would have ended up with some angry kids (I do recall mentioning the “trick” part could involve toilet papering and/or egging someone’s house. Stupid!).

Sure enough two little boys showed up at my door promptly at seven o’clock, dressed in what they thought to be appropriate costumes. One was a “dead zombie skateboarder” and the other was an “army killer with a knife.” They were so earnest and adorable that I ended up giving them half my candy stash.

Word spread like wildfire throughout the town that the gringa was giving out candy, so I ended up with every kid within a 5-mile radius, parading their homespun costumes and demanding their fair share of the loot. It cost me every one of my precious chocolates, but it was worth it to see them indulge in what I would consider to be one of the great American traditions.

3. Traveling in Style. Getting to and fro in rural Peru is always a treat. You literally never know what to expect. Sometimes it’s a good surprise, like when the car gets stopped for an hour as 250 llamas cross the road. Other times, not so good, like when you get stopped for three hours by landslides and impassible roads.

More often than not, however, the surprise comes from how many objects, living and non, can be stuffed into a mid-sized sedan. At current count, my record is eleven people, two large pieces of furniture, five sacks of potatoes and a crate of cuyes. It is certainly not unusual to carry animals along, as their owners will often sell them in the city for a better price. The question of how to carry a live animal is simple: tie it up and strap it to the roof. This is no new thing for me, but my last trip to the capital shook things up a bit.

We picked up a man along the road who was traveling with a rather large goat. He refused to put it on the roof because it was cold outside and he did not want the goat to pick up a sniffle… that could seriously lower his asking price, after all. Peruvians have a hard time saying “no” to anything, so the goat was hog-tied around the ankles and tossed in the back with the luggage. The goat was not pleased with this situation.

I happened to be sitting directly in front of it, so I spent the ride with his head on my shoulder, bleating as loudly as possible into my ear. I couldn’t even get upset, because it was just so funny. You would’ve laughed too, especially if you could’ve seen the picture.


4. Camp. This past weekend I had the pleasure of hanging out with 26 teenage boys, which always makes for some photogenic moments. The event was a leadership camp in Cajamarca run by us Peace Corps volunteers, and we each brought two upstanding kids from our town to participate. The kids participated in leadership activities, toured the local University, spoke with community members in a Professionals Panel and got the chance to interact with other adolescents from around the department. We also threw in some fun, and for many of them, it was the first time travelling to the capital city, first time riding an escalator (there is only one in all of Cajamarca), first time going to the movies and first time swimming in a pool.

While I really enjoyed watching them take interest in college courses, discuss future plans and improve their leadership skills, it was the social aspect that really made me fall in love with these kids. While they were all timid at first, by the end of the first day boys from opposite ends of the department were working together, joking with each other and even walking around arm in arm. It reminded me just how loving the people of Peru can be; they will show their affection toward you in a million ways, even if you were a stranger just the day before. After all, how many American boys (juniors in High School, at that) would put their arm over a male friend’s shoulder as if it were nothing?

Although I don’t have the physical photo, that image will forever remain with me.

5. Sheep-head Soup. It’s not that I’ve never eaten sheep-head soup… trust me, I’ve licked that bowl clean and asked for seconds. But when you witness the process of making it for the first time, it can come as a real shocker. For me, this event happened a few weeks ago when Uncle Tio 2 came to visit (Host Mom’s long-lost older brother who lives in the Jungle, not to be confused with regular Uncle Tio, who lives next door). To celebrate the auspicious occasion, we did what any regular family would do (at least in biblical times): slaughter a sheep. In case you’re wondering, watching a sheep being killed falls right in the middle of the livestock-death scale… worse than watching a cuy go but not nearly as bad as a pig.

The unpleasant part comes when you watch all the pieces coming out and realizing what you’ve been eating over the last year. I’ve learned from experience that ignorance is bliss when you tell yourself everything is breast meat. Those days, unfortunately, have been ripped from me, and I now know exactly what mondongo really is. Although I was generally grossed out by most of this, the fun and photo-worthy part came when we finally ate our sheep-head soup the following day at lunch.

I guess I’ve always just been served a bowl without looking in the pot before, because I assumed the name was just an adorable way of saying that sheep meat was involved. No, no, the title is literal, my friends. Mid-way through our bowls, Uncle Tio 2 opens the pot and proudly pulls out the entire sheep head, then commences to display it as a centerpiece on the table. I thought he was joking as he asked who wanted the eyeball. Turns out Grandma really likes eyeball. The entire family then bartered over ears, lips, tongue, you name it, as the poor little lamb was carved up, Thanksgiving-turkey style.

So for those of you looking to mix up the menu a bit next week, let me know if you’d like the recipe for sheep-head soup!

And Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

A Brief Reprieve From Donkeys and Drinking-Circles

I know you all tune into this blog mainly to read about my seemingly endless supply of weird food and/or livestock stories, but I must take a short break from my mindless musings to bring you a posting with substance. I know, I know… this is certainly not my strong suit. But let’s give it a whirl, shall we?

As aforementioned, I have been working with a group here in San Miguel that is aimed at helping the disabled population in the surrounding area. When you take a disability and throw in the factors of extreme poverty and a remote location, the problem is exacerbated greatly. There are very few resources here; case in point: San Miguel’s health clinic is equipped with one wheelchair, which, I kid you not, is a plastic lawn chair rigged up with two small wheels on the bottom.

In addition to the physical problems, the handicapped of San Miguel have to deal with the stigmatism of an uneducated population. Many people look at them as freaks and treat them like outcasts.

For these reasons, the civil association “Grupo de Apoyo a Personas con Discapacidad,” or Group for the Advancement of Persons with Disability, was formed. The mission is two-fold: help with the necessary medical treatment and improve the overall quality of life. The group provides money for medicines, operations, etc., as well as offering sensitivity lectures for community members and special events for the disabled.

So where do I come in, you ask? Well, the group has for some time had the dream of building a rehabilitation center here in San Miguel, offering speech therapy, educational courses and more. There is currently no such facility anywhere in the department (department is to Peru as state is to the U.S.). I was asked to help with their organizational development and fundraising campaign. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to receive full funding for the center during my two years here… but that is exactly what has happened. Through multiple donations, the largest and most recent of which coming from an NGO in Germany, we have now reached our monetary goal. We have also secured a plot of land, donated by San Miguel’s Municipality, and medical/educational services through other local institutions.

The ground-breaking ceremony has already taken place and construction is beginning this week. In order to keep our investors updated with the progress of the construction, we have created a group website (just launched today!). It will be updated frequently with more photos and information… I hope you’ll check it out:

http://www.gapdperu.com/

Dreams really do come true!

The Parents' Perspective

After managing to survive their trip down south, I invited my parents to write a guest blog about their experiences and impressions. I was a bit nervous about what I would get back, fearing that they would tear my poor host-home to bits. For better or for worse, Peru is my home, my country, my people. And nobody bashes my people but me.

The overall review was not nearly as bad as I expected. I was pleased to read that my parents did appreciate some of the wonders found here, but I guess it takes time to see it all with the rose-colored glasses that I now wear after fifteen months. Sometimes I forget that Peru, in spite of the trash and because of the funny transportation situations, is an acquired taste. I find it perfectly palatable, but others may find it a bit fishy. It was odd to see Peru through fresh eyes, but in the end I enjoyed seeing the perspective. I hope you all do as well:

My husband, Ric, and I were fortunate enough to travel to Peru to visit our Peace Corps Volunteer daughter, Kimberly. I’ve never been to a third world country, so it was quite an eye opener. Kim had warned us that visiting Peru is NOT like a trip to Spain, and she was right in that respect. If you require luxury, I would suggest limiting your visit to Lima – but then you would miss out on some awesome sights. After 24 hours of travelling (actually most of this time was spent sitting in airports), we arrived in the ancient Incan capital of Cusco, gateway to Machu Picchu. We were met at the airport by our guide, German (pronounced Her-mon’), with whom Kimberly thoughtfully charged with our safety. He instructed us on what to do and not to do in this cobblestoned city set at a lofty 12,000 feet above sea level: Take it easy for a day or two, stay hydrated and eat lightly. We heeded his advice and enjoyed strolling the narrow streets, visiting sixteenth century cathedrals and Incan ruins, browsing in shops and watching beautiful dark -eyed children in colorful costumes in the beautiful Plaza de Armas, which in Inca times was the heart of the capital. My personal favorites were the little girls with baby alpacas or llamas who requested that we take our picture with them (for a small fee). Our hotel, Casa de San Blas, was quaint, rustic and very clean.

Mom with her three favorite things: German, an alpaca and a tourist-trap

Two days later we were on our way to Machu Picchu. From Cusco we took a 4 hour train ride and then a 30 minute bus ride to the site. We took the easy route. Kim and her friends hiked for 4 days on the Inca Trail, through rain, hail and snow to reach the summit above Machu Picchu at sunrise. Unfortunately, it was cloudy, so they didn’t actually see the sun come up. They slept in tents at night and were always wet and cold. When we finally met them, they looked so bedraggled! My motherly instincts made me want to give them all a bath and some cocoa. But after a hot meal, they were off and running again, describing the beauty they experienced on the Inca trail. Ric and I had a 2 ½ hour tour of the ruins with a very knowledgeable guide, Pasqual. No picture or documentary can do justice to this site. It truly is one of the wonders of the world. I’m grateful that this was one place the Spaniards did not venture, as they had the habit of tearing down Inca temples and erecting churches. They were not nearly as skilled in the art of building as the Incas, who were truly master builders. I cannot begin to comprehend how they cut blocks of solid granite with such precise angles and used no mortar. Their buildings were virtually earthquake proof, while the Spanish buildings were not. The systems of terraces, aqueducts and fountains, drainage, etc. are amazing. But what makes this place truly remarkable is its setting in the most beautiful mountains and rainforest I have ever seen. It is literally in the clouds. One moment you can’t see anything and then the clouds recede to reveal spectacular views.

The "bedraggled" travelers in need of a bath

Stones of Machu Picchu


Mountainous view behind Machu Picchu city

Post-bath, overlooking city of Cusco

We said goodbye to Cusco and flew back to Lima, a beautiful city with mountains sliding into the Pacific Ocean. It felt great to be back at sea level! We stayed in Miraflores, a lovely section of the city, dotted with parks (one was dedicated to John F. Kennedy), cafes and shops. From Lima, we headed by bus down the coast to the desert town of Huacachina. It is an oasis surrounded by towering sand dunes and is a favorite with young people who love to go sandboarding down the dunes. We all strapped ourselves into dune buggies which raced up and down the dunes, stopping occasionally for Ric and the kids to try out their sandboarding skills. I was the holder of the cameras. The outing ended with a Kodak moment as we watched the sun setting behind the sand dunes.

Miraflores, overlooking the Pacific Ocean


Riding the dunes in Huacachina


Kodak moment


Enjoying a break between buggie-riding

Next we traveled to Pisco where we boarded a boat to visit the Islas Ballestas, or ‘poor man’s Galapagos.’ Along the way, we saw the famous three-pronged Candelabra geoglyph, a giant figure etched into the sandy hills, something like the Nazca Lines. We spent an hour cruising around the islands’ arches and caves, watching sea lions, penguins and thousands of sea birds, such as the Peruvian booby. All too soon, the trip was over, and we were on our way back to Lima.

Sea-lion sunbathing

As we said goodbye to all the Volunteers and their friends, I felt such a sense of gratitude for the dedication and skills these young people exhibited. Peru may have many beautiful and interesting destinations, but it is definitely not for the faint of heart. I found the images of squalor, endless piles of litter and stray dogs quite disturbing. Many Volunteers live without complaining in adobe huts without electricity. They are definitely helping to improve the quality of life for countless people through education, fundraising and better business techniques. I personally will probably not be invited back to Peru because I could not always remember to place the toilet tissue in the trash can, not flush it down the toilet. In fact, I have a feeling the whole country’s sewer system will never be the same!