savannah wetlands

I've got a 22hr bus ride to the Pampass to swim with pink dolphins and crocodiles.

Will be back sometime...

where the ATMs at Yo?!

So my plans of hiking to Isla del Sol got squashed as soon as I got to Copacabana. The reason was because I had no cash and the town has no ATM machine. Que Paso?! I vaguely remember fellow traveler's to take cash, but I thought surely a border town of all places would have at least one ATM. Luckily, I ran into a friend I met in Ecuador who had enough cash to spot me a bus ticket to La Paz, Bolivia and this is where I am now. Sitting on the rooftop of my hostel watching a protest while police officers who large elephant looking guns are shooting them in the air to scare away the protesters. It is a little bit terrifying.. At this very moment I'm seeing police hold guns to people- it is really, really bizarre and sad and disappointing. I just found out that La Paz is one of the most dangerous places in the world, and from where I'm sitting, there is no question about it.

My first impression of La Paz is that it is massive. It is a city full of poor people. There aren't many restaurants, not many bars/pubs, very little taxis for such a large city, and an overwhelming homeless population. The restaurants and bars they do have are all owned and operated by entrepreneurs from other countries (or at least everyone I've seen).

The US dollar exchange rate is 7 bolivianos for 1 US dollar. The Euro is a whopping 15 bolivianos for 1 Euro. A massive hot dog/hamburger on the street is a mere 3 bolivianos. A typical lunch with soup, entree, and drink costs about 7-15bs. And still there are hungry people lining the streets.

Many people wear masks to keep the fumes from rotting their lungs. As soon as you step into the city you are gasping for air due to its high altitude and large gas emission. La Paz is one of the most air polluted cities in the world. On the way to the market yesterday I saw a line of school children walking the streets all holding their hands over their mouths trying not to breathe the grime.

The shoeshine boys, however, wear full-on ski masks but they wear these for a different reason. Discrimination. I took a break at the Plaza San Francisco where this 20yr boy came up to me wanting to know if he can shine my sneakers for 1 Boliviano. I didn't have any money on me so I couldn't help him out, but we did have one interesting conversation. I asked him about the reasoning for the masks and his response was that if people at school knew he was a shoeshine boy it would really hard for him because it is looked down upon. If he ever wanted to work in an office or establishment and the person hiring recognized that he shined shoes before he wouldn't get hired.

His name is Felix. He studies linguistics. He told told me how to say how are you and where are you from in 9 different languages. He tells me that the young people he shines shoes with are addicted to heroine,the drug problem in La Paz is is out of control, and that none of his shoeshine friends know about his studies. He keeps that a secret. I ask him what he wants to do and he laughs and asks me why I'm traveling for so long. It seems that we are both stumped by each others simple questions. We talk for a long time (all in Spanish:) about music and movies and things to look out for in La Paz. This is one crazy city..

The hostel that I'm staying at, however, is a pretty cool place that offered me a job behind the bar. So it looks like I'm going to get stuck in this hectic city for a while after all. It is a 2 week position- I work 4 nights a week, get full room/board and free drinks:) It seemed like a deal I couldn't pass up. I just hope that being in La Paz for such a long time won't set me back for the rest of my travels. Who knows?! All I know is that I start work this Saturday @ 5:00pm.

come what may.

I just kind of wish that it wasn't in La Paz...

More pics!!

Just posted pics of Machu Picchu and Lake Tititaka

http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

Ciao Peru

Ciao Peru!

It has been exactly 1 month that I've been in Peru. A really interesting great country that I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring, but I'm ready for something new. I'm ready for Bolivia! Yesterday I was in Puno wrapped up in every article of clothing I have. I slept in my long socks, long-johns, blue jeans, undershirt, longsleeve shirt, alpaca sweater, fleece pullover, gloves, and toboggan under 2 wool blankets. Still was freezing!!

It is 7:45am now and the sun is beating down on my face like one exquisite lightbulb as I'm heading to Bolivia. Another month in another country doing other things. The first stop will be Isla del Sol, which is considered the birthplace of the sun by the Incas. After that probably head to La Paz and then take a 20hr to 2 day bus ride (it depends on the weather) to the Bolivian Amazon. The only question is how long is it going to take me to get through Bolivia with so much to do?!!

Peru in a nutshell

Highlights of Peru

() Making it across the border without any problems... (except that I got pulled
off the bus because I somehow missed getting my immigration card. Ooops!)

() Having my 1st and only hot shower in Peru at Jo's Place Hostel in Huaraz.

() HUARAZ!!!
-Andean Cafe- They had the most delicious banana pancakes & spinach omelettes.
Plus, real coffee! It was even served in your own little French press.
And to top it off they had one unbelievable library :)

() Almost missed the overnight bus to Lima because I was buying $1.25 Chinese
food on the street. And it was damn good..

() Santa Cruz Trek- 3 nights/4 days of
mesmerizing difficulty. Every speck I loved from the amazing scenery, exploding
pain, my shitty attempt at camp food, everything... except for the damn attack
flies.

() Hitchiking back to Huaraz after the Santa Cruz Trek with the Quechua grandpa
and his grandson. The most beautiful drive I've been on.

() Sandboarding!!

() Lima for many, many reasons despite that most people I met didn't like it.

() This kid I met (working in the mall of all places) named Santiago who I found
quite inspiring. He wanted to know everything about everything. His favorite
band is Alice in Chains.

() Had a 45min conversation with a man who worked in a bookstore about art. We
share the same favorite artist- Egon Schiele. He told me that he can see his
dreams through the paintings of Schiele.

() Wandering the streets of Lima until 5:45am

() My Peruvian leather jacket & pinstripe pants I bought (although I did spend
too much money which is a bit sad)

() Ice cream :) Inka Cola :) Street Chinese food :)

() Machu Picchu— One hell of a hill to climb to get there and a bit expensive.
But well worth ii. One of the most impressive sites I've ever seen.

() Cusco— considered the capital city of the Inkas. Very European with its
cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks. A great nightlife and the only town
in Peru I was able to buy a real beer in. Also, beautiful/talented people
abound here.

() Little kids playing with my hair on buses who were seriously confused by it

() making the most kickass guacamole on a rooftop because I didn't have any money
for anything else

() Lake Tititaka and the floating islands


-----------------------------------

Lowlights of Peru
-----------------------------------

() Having little kids (under the age of 6) try to rob me in the Chiclayo Market

() Spending too much money here

() My 2 weeks of being deathly ill with one hell of a bout of traveler's diarrhea
& getting a stomach parasite

() allergic reaction to the stomach medicine

() BEER SUCKS!!!

() Almost got in a fight in a bar in Lima for no other reason then some
bald-headed guy didn't like it that my friend and I were from the States and
spoke English. It was a very sad experience.

() Peruvian wine is just as bad as the beer. Don't buy or try it!!

() Getting harassed by people on the street wanting you to
(a) eat @ their shitty overpriced restaurant
(b) join a fucking tour that I have no interest in joining
(c) Buy drugs from people who simply say, “ I got drugs. You want to buy?”

Peculiarities of Peru

The endless playing of Michael Jackson
(80's love ballads and wind pipe covers don't fall too far behind him, though)
Toilet seats are non-existent. Why?!?!

one-way streets mean that anyone from any direction can drive down them

Drugs are abundant...when someone wants to sell you something they simply walk up to you in the streets and say Hey! I got drugs. You want?? and then I happily reply No, me gusta and then they laugh because they think I'm joking. Geezzzz

People everywhere are fascinated not by my tattoos or dreadlocks or height.. Nope. It is my hair color and accent.

You can take an entire book to a copy shop and they will copy it for you for 12 Soles (3 bucks!!)
This can't happen in the States because of a little something called copyright infringement.

Police are everywhere, however, they are much more friendlier then APD.

No one ever has change-- ever. If you happen to pay with exact change, however, Peruvians think it is fake. I am still baffled by how commerce takes place...

If hostels say they have hot water, they are lying.

Rainbow flags are everywhere... but that isn't a calling for gays and lesbians around the globe to join hands and sing Kumbaya... It is a tribute to the indigenous population. Shucks.

more photos!

After about an hour of confusion, I finally finished my photobucket account! Everyone told me it is a very simple thing to do, but I don´t do well with super gadget lingo.
This is the link:

http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

Sandboarding & San Pedro

Very important things happend several days ago. I took some San Pedro with this guy from the UK and we went sandboarding in Huacachina, Peru-- the home of the world´s highest sanddune!! It was amazing! Except for the taste of San Pedro.. I drank half a cup of the chunky ninja turtle looking goo which tasted like Peruvian sewer backwash... I´m not quite sure if it was actually what I thought it was.. But sandboarding was insane!!!

damn transcation fees!!

Just checked my beloved bank account and it looks like I´ve spent far too much money here in Peru. I blame the Peruvian leather jacket I bought & some fancy dress pants. I really, really shouldn´t have bought either, but the thing is, I have been prancing around South America looking like a cross between Dora the Explorer and GI Jane´s sister, so I thought a little bit of self-indulgence was granted. By the looks of my bank account, it seems like I´m going to be scrapping hard for pesos by the time I get to Chile (and Chile, Argentina, Brazil are the most expensive countries, yikes!) But, I´m not going to fret yet.. For now, I´m just going to look a little fancier then usual eating my mandarin oranges and canned tuna while sitting on benches in parks wearing pinstripe pants & a badass leather jacket .

Oh the glory of being sick ( again...)

Peru would be an exceptional country if half the time I've spent wasn't on buses or toilets. Oh the glory of being sick in foreign countries!! Yesterday, I spent 13 hrs on a bus ride with a stomach that felt like it was playing jumprope with my intestines. I couldn't sleep. Didn't eat. And then, to top it off, the bus didn't have a bathroom. It was terrible. When I got off the bus in Arequipa I went on a hunt for a hostel and a pharmacy. The hostal was easy to find, but the pharmacy took a bit. When I found it the lady sold me 5 mystery pills, in which I'm pretty sure, I took them in the wrong order. They seemed to make me feel slightly better which justified my reasoning for buying Chinese food on the street with hot sauce & some strange mystery meat for $5 soles. Now I'm back in bed trying not to think about how the dorm I'm in reeks of mold & vomit & stale beer. Blahhhhhhhhh

Nazca Lines

In three hours I´m going to fly over the Nazca Lines and vomit everywhere.. You know why?? Because I have a stomach bug and really bad motion sickness.. After that, it is a 15hr bus ride onward bound to Macchu Pichu!!

Lima: such a modern world

I was in Lima for about 6 days living with a couchsurfer named Magno. He turned about to be an environmental attorney who was fascinated with blond girls. A little strange at first, but he was a nice guy nonetheless. It was just that every conversation we had he always asked with a curious smile,


People like you because are the blonde, no?

and I would kindly say


Yes, I´m blonde Magno. That is correct. I have blonde hair but I hope that is not why people like me.

and he would laugh, still a little mesmorized, not by the type of hair I have, but the color.

Two of my days spent in Lima were at the Bolivian Embassy. I had to fill out many forms, take a photo, a hand over $135, but I finally got my Visa!!

Being in Lima reminded me of what it was like living in the modern world.. Choices & order. Lima had street lights! Lima had reciepts! Lima had toilet paper!

I´ve been in S. America since the end of May and have rarely came across places that contained all three of these things.

Many people I met didn´t enjoy Lima, but I thought it was quite alright. I ran into a couple of problems, but nothing too serious. If anything, I ran into some of the kindest people there, which was surprising. Large cities anywhere don´t really have the reputation of being friendly, but I thought Lima was a very open and accpeting city and most of the people I met were exceptionally friendly and helpful.

living in the woods

The Cordillera Blanca.

Perhaps the most stunning and difficult thing I've done thus far. It is included within the Huascaron National Park, extending over 180km, it contains over 663 glaciers, has the highest peak in the Peruvian Andes, equipped with 269 lakes and 41 rivers—this whopping piece of earth is truly daunting.

For 5 days I trekked through valleys, shimmering lagoons, and snow-capped mountains at an altitude this Mississippian isn't accustomed to. The total hike was 62km, which doesn't sound like much, but when you have an additional 60lbs of stuff attached to your back you start to wish you were one of the people who rented a mule for $5 bucks a day.

I decided no mules, and no guide.

I was going to do this with only three days of acclimatization in Huraz, rent some gear, get a friend, and buy lots of oranges, bread, oatmeal, sausages, and mustard. Always mustard. The gear I got looked as if it got lost in 1983.. Neon purple backpack—missing buckles & straps, a tent with a hole, a sleeping bag with a broken zipper, a pot barely big enough to boil water, and a spork. Off I go..

It takes 2 hrs in a Colectivo—Peru's poor excuse of public transportation which is a minivan that looks like it is on the brink of explosion filled with about as many people as an Evangelical church. If you are handicapped or claustrophobic—good luck—because this is the only option.

I woke up to 6:00am sunrise, the sound of whimpering dogs and bitting cold in the background. Double checked my 60lbs of necessary shit, put on my rented jacket that smells of 1983 and licorice, and find the Colectivo to Caraz— the place I start the Santa Cruz trek. Once I get to Caraz I had to find a taxi that would take me to Cashacampa, the first refuge that you are supposed to start from. One guy tried to charge me 80 soles (about $20) to take me to Cashacampa. I had to inform him that even though I look like I'm not from around there I know enough to understand that he was an idiot for thinking I was dumb enough to pay him that much. I found a guy that would take me up the winding, gravel, mountain road for 30 soles instead:)

Along the way we picked up a lady walking with a basket of peaches and a guy with a transistor radio. They were curious if I was from Germany, which is what everyone thinks, but I said

Nope. Mississippi. United States.
And with a grand smile the taxi driver tells me
Que bueno! Obama!

I laugh and tell him
sí, sí... finalmente!

We talked about the landscape of the area, our favorite fruits, Quechua words, and places I've visited. After the 35 minute taxi ride I learned about the importance the rivers have as their water source, that the cab driver's favorite fruit is duranzos, the lady with the fruit makes her living from the field, and the man with the transistor radio has a wife and 3 kids. We finally make it to the place I needed to go, I pay the cab driver, and all three wish me luck as the lady hands me a peach from her basket.

Buena Suerte. They say.

And I tell them thanks because I know I will need it.

Day one was the hardest. The terrain was mostly uphill and I was already halfway exhausted from the multiple forms of transportation I had to take just to get there. I started at 10am with a fleece jacket and long underwear, by 12am I was down to a t-shi rt and windpants, and by 3:30am I made it to the first camp. I had to take many breaks before I made it. Many were so I could chug my river water, one was for me to puke it up, and the other was for me to devour the most delicious orange in my life. The sight of camp was the greatest sign of relief. I threw off my backpack that weighed about as much as a 3rd grader and began to breathe again. It wasn't long, though, before I started to get attacked my killer flies, mosquitoes, and other insects that like to drink blood. While I was setting up my tent I noticed that my hands and arms had encrusted blood on them from all the bug bites. Damn bugs.

It didn't take me long to set up camp, but it did take me quite a while to boil noodles for dinner. I blame it on my mini pot, portable propane tank, and lack of patience. Finally, I got them half cooked. They were in that sticky, semi-chewy state, but I mixed in my instant cream of mushroom powder and they seemed alright to me. By 6:00pm the sun was behind the mountains and I was struggling to read my book Moon Tide by the only three stars I noticed in the sky.

When you are sleeping in the woods the days start early. You hear things that you don't notice when you are sleeping soundly in a warm bed. Like the clanking of pots from camps near by, the squawking of birds, and the weight of supplies being slapped on the back of mules. The cold in the air was jarring. At 6:00am the last thing I wanted to do was unwrap myself from my cocoon sleeping bag and begin to tear down camp. But I did it anyway. I put on my toboggan, jacket, and gloves, found my spork and ate my leftover mushroom sauce noodles before I folded up everything back in its bag and began trekking towards the mountain.

They refer to it as the Santa Cruz trek. One of the most breathtaking hikes one can take in Peru. Day 2 took longer to the next camp because there was more terrain to cover, but it seemed much easier since there weren't as many hills. I passed several rivers and lagoons—all different shades of blue. Some were iridescent and swallowing, others had a film like green shadows. And then there were rivers that I dunked my head that were about as shivering and clean as silver. I ate my expired meat sandwich and animal crackers by one of the lakes and it occurred to me, on day 2, that I was in the middle of nowhere, Peru. The thought made me laugh as more mules passed me bye by people carrying Camelbacks and fancy cameras. I was still stuck with 60lbs of survival utensils on my back under the heartbeat of the sun. It is an interesting weight, the things one needs to survive away from supermarkets and depot stores. To hear the slug of water and know that it is something I'm going to need soon. Real soon.. Like once I reach the top of the hill.

For 9 hrs I walked. Did the same thing I did the night before, unpack my bag, set up tent, swat killer mosquitoes and kamikaze flies. I got out my propane tank and made either porridge or bread-pudding. I am still not sure what the hell it was. I just know that it was 30cents, the requirement was water, and the package said that will make you strong. Perfecto!

Five minutes later my oat concoction swelled to an alarming proportion in which I would have offered some to the rest of the camp if it didn't taste like grey mud. I ate this for 2 days.

Punta Union pass happened on Day 3. This is the reason so many people do this particular trek. It is supposedly the hardest day for many trekkers. It is the day you reach the highest altitude of the trek and it is all winding, narrow, uphill. Luckily, I had eaten half of my oranges so I didn't have that to weigh me down as much:)

The snow mountain in the distance was a palm print away by noon. Below Punta Union mountain there was another shimmering lagoon and a glacier you could touch. A glacier!! It was the coolest thing being able to be so close to one. I wish the pictures could explain the magnitude of the place. Of the valleys, of the warmth, of the mountains, of the lagoons, and the cool, breezy nights.

After eating my canned tuna smothered in mustard on top of the pass, I took on last deep breath before hoisting the weight back on my back and heading towards civilization. I still had 2 days left. The rest of day 3 was downhill, which my lungs were appreciated of, but not my knees. It took about 4 hours to get to the last base camp. The landscape had changed from boulders and dirt, to flat valleys, snow-crusted mountains, sapphire lagoons, to emerald covered hillsides and hunter-green trees. Finally, trees!!

Day 4 reminded me of the Pacific northwest. Air smelled like wintergreen with a crispness of Washington apples. There were wild horses in the valley, cows eating the green, and one time I saw a sea of sheep come trotting through a clearing followed by a young boy with a stick. Day 4 was the easiest. Mostly flat and lush with shallow stream passings caused by glacial runoffs. Glacial water is the best water I've ever had. The landscape felt like I had stumbled into the Chronicles of Narnia—a part of me felt like I was loosing my mind.

The last 3 hrs was trekking through indigenous villages. Small children would run up to me smiling with their hands open saying

Caramelo ! Caramelo!

I first I thought it must have been another word for Gringo but it occurred to me, about 9 children later, they were asking for candy. It is endearing how simple the wants are of a child. Unfortunately, all I had were animal cracker crumbs in the bottom of my 1980s rucksack. They didn't seem to mind too much. They would try to talk to me and I would try to talk to them while walking and eventually our conversations would hit a wall as I kept following the path.

The farmland was beautiful. Deep fields of wheat and lilac. I passed some straw and mud shacks with people smoking meat and shearing sheep for wool.

Eventually, I made it to the small town of Vaqueria. From there I hitched a ride to Yungay, another town 2 hrs away, and hopped on a Colectivo back to Huraz. The drive down and through the backside of mountains might have been actually more beautiful then the pass and valleys I hiked. I sat next to a Quechua grandfather holding on to his 3yr old grandson while his sons sat in the front and drove. He told me me Quechua words for things like mountains, hats, and snow. Halfway down the mountain pass all 3 men and the tiny grandson got out of the truck and peed in a line over the cliff. I could tell by the melting snow and the angle in their trousers. I sat in the back of the truck laughing at how I managed to hitch a ride with three whizzing men and one rosy-cheeked, rawhide skin grandson whose name I still cannot pronounce.

By 6:00pm I was back in Huraz. I drank 2 bottles of wine and took a cold shower. I crawled into bed warm, clean, and thankful, that tomorrow I was going to return my 1983 trekking gear back to the lady I rented it from.