The Wheels on the Bus

Ten minutes before we are to arrive at the bus station in Arequipa, he stands up. ¨A few minutes of your attention please¨. I judge him to be in his mid-twenties: he is muscular, tan and impassioned. He says he doesn´t want to bother anyone. He realizes that many of the people on the bus are older and wiser than he, and he´s not crazy or disrespectful, he just has to speak his mind. Think of it, he says, think of your children and your grandchildren and the opportunities they have or don´t have. Imagine if they were to grow up in the same rural town their whole lives and never have the chance to leave.

Some people say that we are poor. But what is poverty? It is not lacking a house, but lacking a home and a family. It is not lacking a golden cross, but losing your faith. You can have all the money in the world and still be poor. Yes, money buys you things that can temporarily make you happy, but in the end all you will have are more things. It is not money that makes a man rich, but rather depth of spirit and the love we recieve from others.

I am captivated by this hearty speech and wonder where it is going. The young man´s voice is strong and angry and I feel like he´s making a lot of good points. I am stunned by its conclusion. ¨So please, think about all that I have said. And consider buying these caramels I have for sale - five for one neuvo sol (the peruvian dollar). There´s an assortment of chocolate and fruit fillings and they´ll make great gifts for whoever you´re going to visit. Or maybe you just want to help me out with a donation, or a gift of cigarettes. Whatever you can spare. Thanks again for your time.¨

I am horribly disappointed that instead of being a revolutionary, this well-spoken individual is actually a salesman. After inspiring me with his talk about the emptiness of money-driven society I can´t bring myself to buy his caramels with the cash he has just disparaged. Perhaps the point is to spread the wealth around? Either way I feel that he has cheapened his message. However, it´s very easy for me to make this judgement when I have the luxury of being able to travel for the next six months.

Speaking of which, my most recent trip was a visit to Arequipa, where I spent hours roaming around a monastery and contemplating what it would be like to lead such a sequestered life. I also got to view Juanita, the frozen mummy of a young girl who was sacrificed during Inca times (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mummy_Juanita). Now that was museum exhibit worth seeing. After that I took a trip to the Colca canyon, which I hiked down into but chose to ride a mule back up. The mule ride was intense, because my mule kept trying to pass the other one on the side closest to the edge of the canyon, which is about twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. The best part was the thermal swimming pools at the bottom, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The mosquitos also enjoyed my presence, and I literally have over one hundred chieckenpox-like bug bites to prove it. And since I was wearing my bathing suit, they are everywhere - and I do mean everywhere.

I got back to Cusco early this morning after a marathon 16-hour bus trip. At this point I´m ready to relax and do nothing for the weekend before I fly back to Lima on Monday. I only survived the bus trip with the help of This American Life episodes I had on my ipod, including one about road trips. I was originally going to Lake Titicaca after the canyon, but I was so burned out on being a tourist and getting on and off the bus that I just decided to skip it. Perhaps I´ll make it to Bolivia later and approach it from the other side. In the meantime, I´m still not sure about this whole aimless traveling thing, but I think I´ll head to Ecuador next and try the organic farm thing. Some old-fashioned physical labor ought to put things into perspective.