Mindfulness, Attachment and Impermanence

Four in the morning is a time I am rarely awake to witness. If I am, it's probably because I haven't gone to bed the night before. But for ten days during a silent meditation retreat in southern Thailand, this is when my day began. The large bell sounded for about fifteen minutes each morning, an impossibly loud gong that quickened in intervals as the time passed. Rousing myself from my cement slab, I made my way to the open-air meditation hall to be seated on cushions in the sand with over eighty fellow meditators from around the world. With the stars still out and the candles lit, sitting silently waiting for the first talk of the day, 4am began to feel like a natural and peaceful time to wake up.

The beauty and simplicity of life before sunrise is just one of the many things I discovered at the Suan Mokkh Retreat. Since leaving, travelers I meet want to know: what was the experience like? Was it difficult? The answer is that completing this retreat was one of the most enriching and insightful things I have ever done in my life. I had never meditated before this retreat, but it was a perfect introduction. Anything less than ten days would not have been enough. As they said during the retreat, silent meditation is not difficult, but it is not easy.

The type of meditation we practiced is called anapanasati, or mindfulness with breathing. I encourage you to read this description of it by Buddhadasa Bhikkhu, the esteemed scholar and progressive teacher of Theravada Bhuddism who founded Suan Mokkh and the International Dhamma Hermitage. I have found his teachings, which were referenced many times throughout the retreat, to be extremely thought provoking. You can read some of them here. This talk on Happiness and Hunger is a good place to start.

Daily life itself was quite different: an hour and a half of yoga every morning (5am), only two vegetarian meals a day (8am and 12:30pm) and hot chocolate in the afternoon with bedtime at 9:30pm. The day was broken up into blocks consisting of sitting or walking meditation in 45 minute increments, hour-long talks from monks and nuns and free time after breakfast, lunch and tea. During free time we did our assigned chores, laundry, napped, walked, bathed (with bowls of water, no shower) or sat in the hot springs in our sarongs. We had no sources of outside stimulus, no books, music or even journals allowed.

I went through so many emotions and realizations during the retreat it would be impossible to summarize it all in a blog post. You should know that not talking for ten days wasn't that big of a deal - it actually seemed like I was talking all the time, only it was a conversation with myself. Getting one's mind to shut down, even for the amount of time it takes to focus on an in and out breath, is very difficult. While there were only a few times when I broke through enough layers of thought to feel like I wasn't thinking, but truly meditating, it was enough. In those moments I was able to reach a level of calm that is hard to put into words. I felt like I could sit cross-legged and focus on my breathing forever.

I would like to continue to develop my practice because I find meditation to be extremely centering. Everything that doesn't really matter but stresses you out anyway disappears. What is important in life becomes clear. After the retreat I've found that I have a new mindset even when I'm not meditating. Meditation (and Buddhism) are a way of life. For those of you who are interested, I would love to have a more personal conversation about the whole process and my thoughts on the experience, which was very personal.

The main messages for me make up the title of this blog post: mindfulness, attachment and impermanence. I would love to really get into each one, but again, it's somewhat difficult in this format and I am of course still learning. For now, some highlights.

MINDFULNESS: Strive to be mindful in all that we do, whether that's truly listening when someone speaks or paying attention while washing the dishes. The mind is constantly taking us in a thousand different directions instead of allowing us to focus on what we're actually doing. Therefore, we miss out on a lot of what's actually happening. For example, I tend to eat really quickly and so I usually feel like I didn't eat at all. Then I eat too much to make up for it. During the retreat I tried to pay attention to each bite, to each step, to each breath.

ATTACHMENT: All suffering comes from attachment: attachment to things, to people and to self. If we learn to let go we will be happier. I may lose someone or something and feel pain, but not if I'm not attached. This doesn't mean we can't love people or enjoy the things that we have; it's just about finding the middle way and not becoming too wrapped up in anything, including ourselves. In this way we can focus less on consumerism and begin to avoid the countless stresses in day to day life that come from being attached to various things.

IMPERMANENCE: Nothing is permanent. Feelings and thoughts come and go. Things we own break or become outdated. Our body ages. I am going to die and so are you. Let me say that again: I am going to die and so are you. And when we die, we don't get to take anything with us. Mostly I just go about my daily life acting like I will live forever, when in reality all that I have is this moment. Everything is in a constant state of change. Nothing lasts forever, not even the universe, so pay attention and enjoy the moments you have.

Breath in. Breathe out. Breath in. Breath out. I've only been exposed to simple but important truths, messages that have been around for ages. I am left bursting with stories and ideas and questions that I want to share with you. I feel like there's much more to say. But for a summary type of blog post, I think this will do. I'll leave you with a chant that we learned from the time of Buddha:

Verses on a Single Night

One ought no to long for what has passed away
Nor be anxious over things that are yet to come
The past has left us, the future has not arrived

Whoever sees the present dhamma
Direct and clear just as they are
Is unshakable, immovable, secure
They should accumulate such moments

Effort is the duty of today
Even tomorrow death may come
For it is beyond our power
To delay Death and its great armies

The sages of Peace speak of that one who strives
Never lazy throughout the entire day and night
Praise the one who lives for even a single night

Living in the Moment in Thailand

Thailand is backpacker central. I was initially hesitant to include this country on my itinerary because I don't really like tourists or the tourist scene, let alone the whole backpacker-on-spring-break mentality. But make no mistakes about it, the word is out: Thailand is a great travel destination. It was quite a shock arriving in Bangkok to see more white people in five minutes than I had seen the whole time I was in the Philippines. But just like in Alaska, it doesn't take too much effort to step out of the artificially constructed tourist bubble.

I only spent one day in Bangkok, just enough time to visit the Royal Palace and take a Thai cooking class. After that I headed to Chiang Mai, the second most visited city in Thailand which is an overnight train ride away. Given the amount of tourists, it's pretty easy to get by without knowing Thai, but I find it frustrating that I can't strike up a conversation with locals the way I could when I was in South America. I also find myself at the mercy of others.

When trying to find the right truck to get to the organic farm (where I spent the last week) I relied on a note written in Thai by a worker at my hostel. After ten minutes of showing the note and being pointed to different trucks, I finally found the right one. Unfortunately there was a misunderstanding and the driver tried to drop me off at the wrong place. When he finally figured out where I wanted to go he explained (through hand gestures) that I needed to be on a different truck and proceeded to drop me off on the side of the road to wait. I sat on my backpack for an hour reading, praying the right truck would come along, and sure enough it did.

Thus I ended up at Second Home, an organic farm and retreat run by a monk named Chinnaworn. I called ahead of time to say I was coming, but I didn't realize that the retreat is technically closed at the moment while the monk focuses on meditating. In the past, Second Home was bustling with visitors learning to cook, farm, speak Thai, meditate, etc. But now there were only about five of us, all friends of people who had been there before. Luckily, there was still a lot to do. Although Chinnaworn spent the day alone meditating, the rest of us cooked and picked vegetables and did various tasks that needed attention.

The first day I was there we were recruited by Chinnaworn's brother to help cut rice. I will never again take rice for granted. We cut the stalks with sickles at a downward angle and piled them in little bunches, working our way through the fields. All of the Thai workers thought our contribution pretty hilarious and constantly gave us tips on how to be more efficient. Even so, I still managed to hit myself in the arm, bleeding on the rice stalks and amusing the Thais even more. But everyone was very good-natured and I was proud to have helped. Thankfully it was overcast that day; I cannot imagine working in the heat. As it was I left covered in sweat and grime.

For the week while I was at Second Home I shelled peanuts, cut bamboo, picked vegetables, weeded, hoed, cooked, read and meditated. Everything we ate was organic and either came from the farm itself or from Chinnaworn's mother who lived across the field. It was some of the most delicious food I've ever eaten and it delighted me that our grocery shopping consisted of wondering through the fields picking leaves and fruit or digging up potatoes. We even sucked the nectar out of flowers.

Second Home was extremely relaxing and left me feeling healthy and content. While at Second Home I read a lot, including some very inspiring books on meditation, life & death, selflessness and impermanence. We meditated every day for a half an hour, a task I find extremely challenging but very fulfilling. In fact, I have been so inspired by Second Home and some of the Buddhist philosophies that I've been getting into that I am getting ready to attend a ten day silent meditation retreat on the first of December at Suan Mokkh.

I get on a train this evening to make the journey South to Surat Thani from which I will go to the retreat. At the moment I am couchsurfing with a Zen Buddhist and professor of the Philosophy of Religion at Chiang Mai University. He was previously a monk for ten years and also a trauma doctor. He and his family have been wonderful and we have had many thought provoking conversations. I feel that I have learned so much in the past few weeks and I'm thinking about life in ways I never have before. Mainly I am learning to live in the moment and let go of attachments, which is much harder than you might think.

I expect I will have much more to say on such matters after this retreat, an experience which I find very intimidating. Lauren, not talking for ten days? But I expect it will be a good challenge and life experience. My thoughts will invariably turn to home while I'm there, as they have this whole trip, but I can safely say that I will return to Juneau energized and enlightened by all of my experiences here. This trip has again proved to be less of a sampling of all the places I could visit, but instead a study of locations that really move me.

Mariel Bo - Not just a photo anymore

You know those ads on television which feature forlorn children in faraway countries, dressed in rags and looking at you with pleading eyes? "For less than a dollar a day your contribution can make all the difference in this child's life." For years I would see those ads and think, how sad, I should be sponsor, and yet I never did anything about it. Then in San Francisco, about six years ago, I was stopped on the street by someone working for Children International. A perky girl who had been doing handstands on the sidewalk to get people's attention zoomed in on me when I laughed at her routine. Photos of starving children in hand, she gave me a very convincing pitch and I walked away committed to sponsoring a child in the Philippines for $22 a month.

At the tail end of my trip to the Philippines I finally got a chance to meet this now twelve year-old girl who I have been helping to support since she was six. I never really thought much about the money that I automatically contributed every month (with extras for birthdays and holidays). Occasionally I would fill out the pre-fab holiday wish cards or write her a letter. Every few months I got a lovely handwritten letter from Mariel, thanking me for my help and updating me on how she was doing in school. But it is quite a different thing to donate abstractly than to see the direct results of one's contribution.

A staff member of Children International picked me up at the Legaspi airport with Mariel and her mother in the car. Mariel was quite shy and didn't actually say much of anything the whole day we spent together, despite prompting by staff and her mother. But her mother said that's just how she is, and she grinned at me shyly when I talked to her and asked her questions. She was wearing an outfit that apparently the money I had given her for her birthday had purchased. I was quite surprised when her mother said she had prayed that her sponsor would come and visit a few months ago. Her hope was based on the fact that a few years ago I casually mentioned in a letter that someday I might visit the Philippines. Mariel was so excited to meet me that the night before that she didn't sleep at all.

The day was extremely fulfilling. We went to the mall and I spent $50 to buy Mariel some new clothes and sneakers and a radio for her family. I have never known a child's eyes to go so wide - she couldn't believe that she was getting all this stuff and couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you miss!" Her mother said thank you to me many times for supporting her daughter all these years. To put things into perspective, the income of Mariel's family is less than $100 a month and she has five brothers and sisters. I also saw the facilities where thousands of sponsored children in the region go to get medical checkups and receive other services funded by sponsors. Damn - I thought - how legit is this! It was unbelievable to see the realtime product of sponsorship.

At the end of the day I had a chance to see where Mariel and her family live. I was shocked. The whole family live in a very small cement building with dirt floors consisting of two bedrooms and a kitchen area. In fact, this building belongs to Mariel's grandmother and the family just recently located there keep her company in her old age. The home they normally live in didn't have four walls and was one room with a thatched roof. All of Mariel's brothers and sisters were super excited to see what she had brought home. Thanks again for everything - said her mother, and I told her it was a pleasure to finally get to meet them. I promised to be in touch more often. When I left, all the people in the village crowded around the van, smiling and waving, curious to see what this random white lady was doing there.

Suffice to say, I am more than pleased with where my money has been going for the last six years and will continue to sponsor Mariel until she is nineteen. I feel lucky to have met her and happy that I can contribute to such a good cause. There are so many children (and adults) with so little in the world and it's so easy to forget that in the consumer-driven society of the United States. I love that traveling constantly reminds me to be grateful for what I have.

I have even more cause to be grateful after receiving the news that my Grandmother's cousin's daughter would like me to be Godmother to one of her twins (who she is pregnant with now). We met briefly during the family reunion I discussed in my last entry. They have decided that they went to keep the family connection alive. Being a ninong in the Philippines is a huge honor and I am expected to have a lifetime connection with the child. I now have another opportunity to be supportive, but this time for family. I am thrilled, and I don't think I've seen the last of the Philippines.

The Philippines (North Luzon)

Walking off the plane into the Manila airport is like opening a closet in the fall that you haven’t opened since putting some damp winter coats into it last spring. The smell of musty humidity is overpowering, quite in contrast to the sterile environment of the Tokyo airport, the previous stop on my twenty-hour flight to the Philippines. Most the Japanese workers wore doctor’s masks, but so far, the only masks I’ve seen in the Philippines were worn by Asian tourists while riding horses up a volcano ridge. I did the same trek, but unfortunately sans horse, sans mask and sans my little brother, who gave up a 1/3 of the way from the top. I’ve learned that attempting to keep pace with a practiced local is unadvisable, especially in the noontime sun. But that was yesterday. What, you might ask, have I been doing since I arrived here more than a week ago?

Not partaking in the typical backpacker lifestyle, that’s for sure. This part of my journey being a family trip, I’ve given up adventure for relaxation and luxury. Falling back into my status as daughter and dependent, I have resigned myself to seeing the Philippines in somewhat of an air-conditioned family-filled bubble. For once, my schedule is not dictated by my own whims and limitations, but by those of others. Although this has taken some getting used to, it’s probably good for me.

The majority of our trip has been centralized around the beautiful home and delicious meals of our hosts, family friends William and Robert, one local Filipino and one retired American. They live in a gated community a few hours outside of Manila called, of all things, Lakeshore. What I didn’t realize before coming to the Philippines is that ninety percent of all signs are in English and most everyone here also knows how to speak English. My expectations of this faraway country certainly didn’t include billboards for Oreos, skin whitening products and Nike outlets. Not surprisingly, there is also an excessive amount of McDonalds, but in the Philippines, they also deliver. Even in this island country there’s no escaping globalization.

While visiting Manila we did not visit the area hit by the typhoons, sticking to sights like churches and the famous Manila Hotel. It’s a bustling Asian city, and the traffic becomes so slow that even on freeways people bravely stand and peddle things in the middle of the road with seemingly no fear. But I have never really been a fan of big cities and Manila is no exception, overwhelming me with its overload of people and pollution. I prefer our drives through the countryside, with water buffalos and rice paddies as scenery. To dry out the rice from the fields, everyone spreads it out on the hot pavement of the public road. Vehicles sway in and out of their lanes every quarter mile or so to avoid the fruit of this labor.

The contrast between where we have been staying and eating versus the daily realities for the locals is stark. The Philippines are home to immense poverty and wealth juxtaposed side by side with tin roof shacks right next door to multi-million dollar developments. Most everything here is extremely cheap, but you can also go to the mall and buy American brands for top dollar. As some of the seemingly few white people around, people often mill about us begging for money. It’s hard to say no when what’s small change for us could buy a local person three meals.

Speaking of locals, I had the chance to meet some long lost Filipino relatives. With the help of our Filipino host my grandmother was able to find and reconnect with a cousin she hasn’t seen in over sixty years. My grandmother knew the town she was from, but that was all. After three hours of visiting various offices and talking to a lot of locals, we located her cousin. It was an emotional reunion. How unbelievable it was to be at the home of our distant counterparts. The children played in the dirt outside the modest cement home, taking turns roughhousing with a tiny kitten, testing its durability by poking it with rocks and swinging it by its front paws.

I wish I had taken more pictures of things here, but I always feel weird whipping out my camera to take pictures of what is a novelty for me, but daily life for someone else. I have not seen as much of the Philippines as I would’ve liked, but as I have said, this is a different kind of trip. These last few days we’ve spent in a beautiful hotel in an area called Tagaytay, but tomorrow I am flying solo to a different part of the Philippines (Legaspi) to meet a child I’ve sponsored through Children’s International for the last seven years. The following day I will leave for Thailand.

And so you have it, some major impressions of my time here so far. I should also note that the scenery of the Philippines is quite impressive, as well as the heat. Thanks for reading, feel free to comment, and I’ll post pictures and another entry soon. 

On the road again...

Except this time I don't speak the language. Those of you who followed my blog the last time I was traveling know that I went to Peru, Ecuador, The Galapagos and Colombia. As a Spanish major, I found backpacking by myself in South America to be relatively easy since I was able to communicate with the locals. Traveling in the The Philippines and SE Asia is sure to be a whole different kind of adventure.

Tomorrow I leave for Manila to meet up with my grandmother, mother, stepfather and brother, all of whom left Juneau today. Believe it or not, my grandmother was born and raised in the Philippines, but hasn't been back in 60 years. I think my great-great-grandmother was 100% Filipino, thus making me...well...mostly pretty pasty white. But in some small way, this is my heritage, and I am thrilled to have the opportunity to travel there with my grandmother. We will be in the Philippines until Nov. 18th, at which time I will be flying solo to Thailand. I arrive home on Christmas Eve, taking of from Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam.

Now you know as much about my travel plans as I do. Once again, and to my parents' dismay, I am journeying without much of a flight plan. I must get from point A to point B and there are some stops I'd like to make along the way, but how it will all come together I'm not really sure. I have my dirty backpack, my passport, my trusty laser-water-filter-wand thing and not much else. I hope to update this blog as often as I can, but only if I have interesting stories to tell. Feel free to comment on the posts, that always makes me smile.

One day in Juneau left, lots of stuff to do to get ready. Will I be fully prepared by the time I go? Doubtful. But hey, this is trial by fire baby, trial by fire.

Come out the wilderness

Tell me how did you feel, when you come out of the wilderness?
How did you feel, when you come out of the wilderness?
How did you feel, when you come out of the wilderness?
Lean and lonely lord
(Traditional song, excellent version by The Be Good Tanyas)

If these past four months have been a testament to what I hope to be a lifetime of traveling, so has this last week reaffirmed my strong ties with nature. Yesterday I arrived in Taganga, a tiny beach town where I will learn to scuba dive, after camping for a week in Parque Tayrona on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. It´s sad to admit that after living my whole life in Alaska - land of the rugged outdoorperson - this is the longest camping trip I´ve ever undertaken. I camped with the four Argentinian guys I met in San Austin, which worked out perfectly because they had all the camping supplies and the know-how.

I spent all but one of the nights in a tent sans thermarest or blanket, waking up each morning with large quantities of rogue sand stuck to my salty skin. The additional night I convinced someone to swap me for their hammock, a simple luxury for those who live in hot climates, but something that I can´t get enough of. I´ve been imagining ways to make a hammock rainproof for use in Juneau, but it really wouldn´t be the same.

Our days consisted of perplexing questions such as: Which beach will I walk to today? Does it hurt if you get a crab to pinch your toe? Who owns this mule that just broke all our recently acquired eggs? Is it worth the icky chemical feel of DEET to keep the insects from biting? And my favorite - what is the best way to get to at the meat of a coconut? We settled for hacking at them with machetes and then slowly prying out chunks of white with a knife. Delicious.

There is nothing better or easier than going back to basics. For the entire week I was barefoot. I never imagined myself watching the sun set over the Caribbean after spending the day sunbathing and swimming at a nude beach, but there I was. Scrambling over rocks and swinging through tree roots brought me back to my childhood, as did watching the boys fake ninja fight and chase each other through the woods. We were struck with a sense of wonder for all the little things: the leaf cutter ants crossing the path with their little highways, the sounds of frogs singing after the sun went down, the sense of satisfaction one gets from finding one´s own food, even if it is only a coconut that fell from a tree.

I didn´t know that such delicious bread can be made with only flour, water and salt (or sugar) fried over a campfire. No one told me how much better music sounds when it´s a live jam session on the beach under a sky bursting with stars and a full moon, the waves crashing in accompaniment. I didn´t realize that tadpoles actually existed outside my third-grade classroom, and yet they were in the stream next to our campsite going through all stages of life. Most importantly, my week in Tayrona reminded me how happy I can be without technology or mirrors, how the simple yet overpowering presence of nature puts everything into perspective.

I feel like I could live like this forever. I think the biggest difference between life at home and life on the roads or in the woods is the lack of pressure in regards to money or consumerism. It´s a completely different set of values. I am, you might say, less of a slave to The Man. Of course, being in a third world country also reminds one of one´s advantages. Several times now I´ve been with people around my age, both fellow backpackers and locals, where literally a dollar can make or break their decision to buy or do something. I struggle between wanting to live like the locals do, on dollars or day, or to take advantage of how far my money can go here. I go back and forth, but I´ve at least come to the conclusion that the less ¨things¨ in my life, the better.

Lately I´ve been dealing with the knowledge that in less than three weeks I will be home again. It´s an odd feeling. I miss it so much sometimes, and I find the urge to nest quite powerful. But I know I have much more to see and many more adventures to undertake. I like the idea of journalism because I think it could marry together the various lives I envision myself in. In the meantime, I plan to earn seasonal money before hitting the road again. But I have no doubt that I plan to take advantage of the opportunities at home in a way I hadn´t before. After seeing how much there is to experience and all the people out there doing things, I think it´s a shame to not live every moment passionately.

5am is a good time to go to bed

I am no longer worried that I have become a social recluse, a fear I began to cultivate last summer when I pretty much stopped going out and would instead stay home and read a book. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I had previously enjoyed the company of large groups of friends imbibing beers, shouting, laughing and dancing until last call. But for one reason or another, the last few months that I was in Juneau I found myself more often than not turning down the invitation to go out. Even on this trip I haven't really taken advantage of the night scene very often. But Medellin turned it around to the point where for four nights in a row I went to bed at 5am.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday - every night a different adventure. Most began with a stop at the park in Zona Rosa, a club zone of Medellin, where myself and some friends I've made at the hostel would strike up conversations with whomever locals were around and go from there. Several of these evenings involved spontaneous group rapping/sing-alongs. Sunday night involved a stay at the farm of a local who personally fought against Escobar. I heard way more about those days and the drug trade than I am at liberty to share, and the whole time my friends and I were listening I was in awe of where I had ended up. When we woke up the next morning, the maid made us breakfast and we picked tangerines from the trees before being driven down to the metro stop.

Sticking with my trend of being the slowest traveler in the world, I have now been in Medellin for over a week, but will be leaving for Cartagena tomorrow. It's official - for the rest of my trip I'll just be in Colombia, which I couldn't be happier about. I get back to Juneau on April 11th. I spent almost a week in Bogotá before arriving in Medellin, largely in the company of an American Doctor (in psychology) from Texas who I met in St. Augustine and who has a house and a cafe in Bogotá. He is an old hippie and has been living in Colombia on and off since the 70s and has a lot of stories about how the country has changed. I truly believe that the tourism business will continue to take off once people figure out that Colombia isn't as scary as they think it is.

Once again I've taken too long since writing an entry, so it's harder to get into many of the little details, but suffice to say that I am having a blast. I think I'll go for some more literary snapshots to give you an idea of what I've been doing and experiencing:

*Homemade milk and fresh coconut popsicles, fruit smoothies and cups of fresh pineapples and strawberries - all for under a dollar.
*A professional soccer (futbol) game I attended where the exuberant Medellin fans sang cheers and jumped up and down for literally the entire game.
*Going to Mangoes with a group of ten guys from my hostel, a famous cowboy-themed club where barely-dressed girls (and some guys) perform dance routines on the bar. Midgets are also part of the attraction, and in the course of the evening we danced in a congo line in addition to bringing back the chicken dance and the macarena.
*Fly fishing in a nearby town with two guys from my hostel who are fishing guides in Northern Alaska in the summer. I never knew there was so much to talk about (or so many new vocab words) when it comes to fishing. Also, I suppose I didn't really fish - I just watched them. I'm also happy to report that I have discovered a love for seafood, my most recent fave being snook.
*Being given a homemade artsy rooster earring by a girl I met in the park so that I could report on how nice and not scary the people of Colombia are.
*Talking for hours about books with this guy about my age who I met in the cafe owned by my Texan friend. Meeting up with him and some local girls the next night and talking for another six hours. Note to self: read more e.e.cummings.
*Meeting a guy about my age from the states who has been doing independent journalism in Colombia for about a year and being re-inspired to really pursue journalism as a career.

So that's what I've got for you for now - alive, well and living it up in beautiful Colombia.

Pictures of Things!

Finally! I found an internet place where I can directly plug in my camera card! Here are some pictures relating to the new blog entry below. I have also downloaded the majority of my pictures onto facebook in different albums: Machu Picchu Trek, Peru, Ecuador, and Colombia. I have several hundred Galapagos pictures which I didn´t feel like sorting through at the moment, so those will come later. Enjoy...

Lucila and her daughter (Otavalo)

Otavalo Market

Secret Garden Cotopaxi Refuge

Cotopaxi

Fresh pineapple on a stick

Cutting plantain leaves into strips used to weave bags

Sugarcane processing - no corn syrup here (Colombia)

San Augustin Park

Beautiful flowers everywhere

Near San Augustin

I wonder what our culture will leave behind...

Otavalo, Cotopaxi and San Augustin, Colombia

¨Colombia: The only danger is that you won´t want to leave.¨ I saw this slogan in a commercial for the country when I was back in Peru, but I didn´t realize how true it was. Fellow travelers confirmed its appeal and quelled the fear that had been instilled in me by basically everyone back home due to stereotypes. In the short time that I have been here I have fallen in love with this beautiful country and its people. In fact, since I have less than two months left of my journey (I want to be back in Juneau by Folk Fest) it´s possible I may spend the rest of my time exploring Colombia. It´s huge, and with all kinds of different climates and things to see I could definitely keep myself busy.

I crossed the border last Wednesday after saying goodbye to Angela, with whom I had met up with again to travel together to Otavalo and Cotopaxi. In Otavalo we met up with a family who supplies sweaters for an import store I worked at for quite a few summers in Juneau, Invisible World. Lucila, an absolutely gorgeous lady and the boss of the whole business, was super hospitable even though I showed up unexpectedly with only a letter from Stuart (my former boss) as introduction. She invited us into her house for dinner and walked us around town and was generally one of the nicest people I´ve ever met. Her son was also great, and took me to see various waterfalls and a lake in the crater of a volcano (which has bubbles coming up from the bottom because the volcano is still active). The Saturday market in Otavalo is the best in Ecuador and Angela and I had a great time scoping everything out. There are so many artisans around it´s ridiculous.

A few days later we found ourselves at a reserve an hour from Cotopaxi, one of the highest active volcanoes in the world (19,347 ft. / 5,897 m). Although we didn´t attempt to summit, simply being in its presence was impressive. One of the guys working at the reserve had tried to summit the week before but got cerebral edema 100 meters from the top and had to turn around. Someday I´d like to climb it but at this juncture I just used the two days we were there to hike and lay around in a hammock reading. It was great to only use candles and a fire at night instead of electricity, a theme I´ve continued to enjoy while staying in my current bamboo hut in a rustic hostel / organic farm in San Augustin, Colombia. I find that I enjoy the simple life.

Crossing the border took me all of about ten minutes. I got my passport stamped in Ecuador, walked across a bridge, got my passport stamped in Colombia. There was no questions asked, no looking in my bags, no nothing - very anticlimactic. The biggest difference I´ve noticed so far is the presence of young men in army fatigues with semi-automatics - but they´re there for protection. Everyone I´ve talked to says that the latest president has done a good job of stamping out FARC and that the country is the safest its been in years. There is a lot of poverty, which I´ve confronted in every country, but at least it is safer.

On Valentine´s day evening I participated in a spontaneous dance party at my hostel which consisted of myself, a bunch of Argentinian travelers, the fifty-something hippie dueña of my hostel and some Colombians. For the past week I´ve been speaking nothing but Spanish which is refreshing after speaking English in most hostels. The previous two days myself and two Argentinian girls visited a bunch of places together, including the archaeological park which is on the World Heritage List of UNESCO and has sculptures from indigenous cultures which flourished between 6th century B.C and 12th A.D.

Oh man - I could go on and on about all kinds of stuff that I´ve been thinking and experiencing, especially in regards to human kindness. In Quito, the night before she was to get on the plane, Angela left her backpack in a taxi which contained her passport, camera, ipod and money. Unbelievably, the driver tracked down the hostel in which we were staying based on an old receipt he found inside and returned everything four hours later. In my travels I constantly meet people who amaze me with their friendliness, philosophies and non-materialistic way of life. Everyday I am thankful for what I have and what I have experienced.

Alright, I´m heading out of this rainy but charming pueblo mañana. Next stop? Bogotá.

A disappointing insight into myself

I am sad to admit that I am not a badass. For years I have had this notion that I am - or better put - would be, if put in the right situation. I have been grooming myself with what I consider to be badass-appropriate activities: longboarding down steep hills, kickboxing, the Polar Bear Dip, rock climbing and once I shot guns in Indiana (it was awesome). So when I climbed over the fence of a bridge overlooking a river 100 meters below, 30 meters of which I would be free falling, I pictured myself fearlessly leaping off at the count of three. This was my chance to take it to the next level. I would channel Angelina Jolie.


Instead I stood on the platform for a few minutes before deciding I wouldn´t be able to force myself to jump. Defeated, I climbed back down and got out of my harness to watch another friend try their luck. Thankfully the desire to live out my fantasy of being a full-fledged adrenaline-seeking bridge-jumping badass chick eventually won out over my (somewhat rational) fear, and I found myself back on the edge. I had decided I should jump off immediately to get it over with.

Two minutes later and I still haven´t jumped. Everyone is shouting at me about how easy it is. "Don't think!" I ask myself, ¨Why is this so difficult? Just do it!¨ I knew I would be forever shamed if I backed down again. And so, in a moment of clarity, I stepped off. I immediately regretted the decision, but by then I was free falling. When I landed, I thought I had thrown out my back, but at that point was so ecstatic at what I had just done I didn´t care. Turns out I messed up my neck - but I paid $15 two days later for a chiropractor from California to (literally) snap it back into place.


Welcome to Baños, Ecuador, where the tourism activities are all rugged and outdoors. In my week here I´ve toured waterfalls, done a bunch of hiking, seen a (smoking) volcano, biked 40km (in one go), gone four wheeling and of course - jumped off a bridge. I have also had the pleasure of soaking in the town´s namesake - thermal baths full of minerals which alternate between scorching hot and feezing cold. I guess going back and forth between the two is good for your body (even though it feels a bit like being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles). There´s also a lot of massage places around, so I treated myself to an hour´s worth after the bike ride.

Hard to believe that only last week I was lying on the beach and now I´m back in the mountains. I know there´s probably a lot more I could share about the Galapagos, but I´ve been in Baños for a week so that´s what´s on my mind. I´ve realized I´m a very slow traveler, not at all good at getting in and getting out. It seems like the majority of people I meet are always packing in the activities and then moving right along while I just tend to chill and not even necessarily do a whole lot. There´s also just too many places one can visit. I have decided not to feel guilty about the things I´m skipping, because hey, this is all my priority.

A few days ago I watched The Motorcycle Diaries for the first time - the film about the road trip Che Guevara took through South America when he was about my age. It was odd to see him in the same places I had been, witnessing injustices against the indigenous populations that are still occurring today. The difference is that while I too am saddened by the poverty and pain that exists here and throughout the world, I´ve yet to do anything about it. In the movie, a couple who had lost everything and were traveling looking for work asked Che why he was traveling - was he looking for work too? When he said he was traveling just to travel you could see how ridiculous the notion suddenly seemed...That´s how I feel sometimes.

But hey, onwards to Quito then Otavalo then Colombia. I don´t have all the answers and I expect I never will. Some days I feel like I´ve almost reached Nirvana and other days I am completely lost. But such is the nature of my journeys...

PS: I do have a few hundred pictures of the Galapagos which I really want to share, but it´s just such a hassle to download them at the moment that it´ll

have to wait. I know, I´m sorry! I want you to see them as much you to do.

A New Era

First of all, I would be amiss if I did not start this entry by sharing my joy and excitement over yesterday´s inauguration of Barack Obama. President Obama - it sounds a bit funny after hearing about President Bush for so long, doesn´t it? But of course it´s so refreshing, and I am ready to see what he can do. Unfortunately, I missed his speech when all the cable on Santa Cruz Island cut out a few minutes into it. But it was dubbed over in Spanish anyway, so I was already missing a lot of the pizazz. No matter - I will watch it later when I´m back in mainland Ecuador with a faster internet connection.

I have officially ceased living the life of your typical backpacker and have lapsed into the easy day to day routine of those fortunate enough to spend an extended period of time in the Galapagos. Angela, a girlfriend from college who I have been here with, met an amazing chef in Quito who manages a beautiful restaurant here. We have been fortunate enough to crash on his couch since we got back from spending a few nights on another island, Isabella, a few hours boat ride away. Before that we were on our boat cruise. Unfortunately, Angela takes off tomorrow and we lost Rebekka on Sunday, but I suppose I´m ready to revert back to solo traveling mode. It has been refreshing to have companions though - it really does make for a whole different kind of traveling.

How do I even begin to tell you about what I´ve seen and experienced here? There´s just so much. The highlight has probably been snorkeling with sea lions and sharks. The sea lions love to play and shoot right by you at very close range. I´ve also seen giant sea turtles, rays, tons of fish, penguins, fur seals, a million birds and marine iguanas which are only found in the Galapagos. The boat tour was great because we got to visit a bunch of islands in a short amount of time. I was initially proud of myself for not getting sea sick (I´m very prone to motion sickness) thereby proving that I might be able to indulge a recent whim of mine to live on a boat. Sadly, it seems I only do well on very calm seas, since on the extremely bumpy ride (on a smaller boat) to Isabella I threw up the whole time.

It was worth the trip though. I have never seen so many stars in a sky so clear on a white beach so empty. The streets aren´t even paved - they´re still sand. I have never spent an extended amount of time around beaches you would want to swim in, but here I float around in the warm ocean every day. I walk a lot, eat ice cream and fresh pineapple every day and have probably eaten more shrimp in the past week than I had previously had throughout my entire life. I feel like I´m settling in, which would be nice except that I am also getting anxious about getting back on the road.

It is frustrating that it has been so long since my first Galapagos entry because it is not a general summary I want to give you, but rather soundbites of moments and emotions. I am storing up quite a collection of little stories which I suppose you will have to ask me about when I return. One of the most recent observations is how I´ve realized that my level of fluency is not going to end up as good as it was after I studied in Spain unless I spend more time with locals. I discovered this when at a party with a bunch of Galapageños only speaking Spanish and I couldn´t understand everything. It´s not enough to be in a Spanish speaking country. One must begin to live, talk, think and breathe the language - total immersion - before it truly becomes second nature.

Damn, I am so lucky to be here. I am even more grateful that I still have money left to travel after this expensive side trip. But I´ll tell you - my skin has never seen so much sun and salt water. I walk over lava (not to be confused with magma) all day in flip-flops and drink a ton of fruit juice. My only problem is too much free time and that I can apparently still get a sunburn after applying SPF 70 ¨Babyface¨sunblock twice. What a life, eh? Tonight Angela and I will take a water taxi over to the restaurant of our friend so that we might indulge in a gourmet dinner and cocktails. I have to get out of here before I get sucked in. But in the end I suppose I would eventually get restless - one can only spend so many days relaxing in paradise before craving the excitement of a rougher life, the life on the road.

Note: I will have to wait to add pictures until I get back to the mainland because the internet connection here is just too slow. Also, for additional stories about my time in the Galapagos you can check out my friend Angela´s blog.

Journal Entry Highlights

Since I haven´t been consistent in updating my blog while in the Galapagos I thought I´d include some excerpts from my personal journal:

*Tourism is a weird form of voyeurism. All these people live their day to day lives in places I consider exotic and want to learn from. But all I´m seeing is just a slightly different / more impoverished version of what I´m doing. We´re all people and therefore we are all subject to the laws of human nature. We may come in slightly different cultural packages but we share the same basic wants and needs. The most I can do is alter the scenery in order to focus on what is important instead of getting caught up in society´s artificially constructed values.

*I´ve realized that (so far) the places I like the best - Vilcabamba, Galapagos - are places that remind me of home. I have to be somewhere with a lot of nature, not too many people, a laid back/artsy community feel and fascinating residents.

*I think I´m getting more serious about pursuing journalism as a career. I love to observe people, places and experiences and then write about it. All I need is guidance and discipline, which I suppose is what I´m lacking in most of my pursuits that founder.

*Things I´m loving on this trip (inspired by the first two items on the list which I am enjoying right now): breezes on a warm day, good music that goes with the mood, girlfriends, food that is not chicken and rice, books, full days, dancing, laughing, snorkeling, aloe vera, people, home, reminders that money is of minimal importance, how I feel after hiking, stars, never knowing what time it is (and that not mattering), showers and cold water.

Still alive

...and will be posting an actual entry with photos and everything in the next few days. I am still in the Galapagos and am having a blast - currently traveling with a friend from college. I am getting an actual tan and have freckles on my face for probably the first time ever. This internet cafe that I am in right now is super hot and I am covered in sweat (something I do not think I will ever get used to) but I just wanted to post this quick note. Highlights of the entry to come include our boat trip, snorkeling with sea lions and sharks, hanging out with locals, white sandy beaches, good times with the girls, and our current adventure - surfing on the couch of a five star Canadian chef that Angela met back in Quito. I am supposed to leave the Galapagos on Tuesday but I might stay a week longer and get certified to dive...

Paradise Found

Iguanas. Pelicans. Lizards. Sea lions. Mocking birds. Giant turtles. Dragonflies. Crabs. Finches. King salmon-sized electric blue fish. Cactus. Volcanic rock. An orchid biologist who looks like Wolverine. An oasis. More fish. A friendly gay couple from San Francisco. Salt flats. A white sandy beach with crystal blue waters. What do all these things have in common? I´ve run into all of them in the roughly six hours I´ve been on the island San Cristóbal in the Galapagos. I don´t even begin my four-day/three-night boat tour until tomorrow and I´m already in awe of this place. I spent all afternoon swimming, scuba-ing and jumping off cliffs in a little oasis a 60 second water taxi ride and a fifteen minute hike away from my hostal.

Where I was last week was amazing too. Rebecca and I had a great time hiking and relaxing in Vilcabamba, a town that I instantly fell in love with. It reminds me of Juneau, what with its great hiking trails and granola cruncher feel. Our hostel, The Hidden Garden, was absolutely charming and had the best included breakfast I´ve eaten my whole trip. I´m talking real, homemade bread here (the bread so far is generally awful) along with eggs, fresh fruit and fresh juice. All this and our room for only $12.50. I´m telling you - this is the life. Actually, the hostal is for sale at the moment, so if anyone has a spare $450,000 lying around please do consider buying it because I´ll totally volunteer to be the manager.

A funny thing about Ecuador - they use American money. I guess they ditched their currency a few years ago in favor of using ours, although Ecuadorian coins are still in the mix. It´s weird seeing dollars again. I feel like things are a bit more spendy here than in Peru; although hey, I did get a full body salt scrub and a facial in Vilcabamba for only $13, so I can´t really complain.

After my tour in the Galapagos I have at least until the 19th to do some exploring on my own, although I could change my ticket and hang out even more if I like. I´m thinking about returning to Vilcabamba (before making my way to Colombia) because I dug the vibe so much. I´m quickly coming to the realization that I probably won´t make it through all of Central America - hell, I might not even make it out of South America - but I am totally ok with. I am absolutely getting something out of every experience and I think that´s what´s really important.

It has been great traveling with Rebecca and we´ve had some good discussions. I have learned a lot about Sweden from her and I find it to be a very impressive country. To start off with, I never realized that the bands ABBA, Ace of Bace and The Hives are all Swedish. But more importantly, in Sweden they have universal health care, public universities that you can go to for little or no cost, six weeks paid vacation a year, free oral contraceptives for everyone until they´re twenty, maternity leave worth 90% of a woman´s pay for one year, and so on and so forth. They even have a law that you can only use naked/scantily-clad women to sell things like lingerie. When trying to figure out things that supposedly make the US superior, all I could come up with was our war machine and the possibility of making it rich. In Sweden, it sounds like family and free time are more important than money and one´s career, which unfortunately I fear have become the focus in the United States.

But anyway - here I am. In the Galapagos and I have at least another three months of traveling to go. I keep hearing people say oh I wish I could do that. But you know what? You can. It´s a choice. Obviously it´s easier for me when I don´t have a ton of commitments. But I think that with a year or so of planning everyone should be able to break away from their established routine and just get out there. Check out the Vagabond link in my ¨Books I´ve Been Reading¨ section, it´s got some good stuff related to this theme. In the meantime, I´m glad you´ve been reading my blog and I promise some good stories after this Galapagos trip.

Bad times with the shaman man

The scene - Huancabamba. Ten thirty at night. Myself and ten Peruvians sit in a small room with a dirt floor lit by a single light bulb. I have paid $100 for an all night visit with a healer recommended by the owner of my hostel, a man well known around town who many of my compatriots have come to visit from other parts of Peru. He has a good reputation and I even spot him in a video about the region. I have no particular ailment, but figure the visit is good for some general soul cleansing as well as an interesting blog entry. In the corner of the room is the ¨mesa¨, which isn´t really a table at all, but a few rugs laid out with a bunch of ceremonial trinkets: shells, rocks, swords, and curiously enough - a skeleton popping out of a little orange halloween pumpkin. The roof consists of wooden beams and dozens of cardboard boxes.

The action - The ceremony lasts until five in the morning and mostly consists of the the maestro and his assistants imbibing flower water and spitting it all over us. Sometimes it is spit into our hands and we are then instructed to rub it on ourselves, while at other times it is sprayed directly on our chests and faces. In between rounds the maestro does a bunch of chanting and asks God to help us out with whatever we came there for. We also snort tobacco juice through our nose via a sea shell, and later on some flower water. At one point we drink San Pedro cactus, which is supposed to be hallucinogenic, but I don´t notice any effects. At the end of the ceremony we cleanse our hands with sugar and baby powder, clap our hands and then throw flower petals into the air.

The problem - Some of you may wonder why this entry seems particularly matter of fact and unemotional. That is because of something that happened towards the end of the ceremony which completely turned me off to the whole thing. At one point in the night certain people were singled out for some individual cleansing. In my case this involved being cleansed (aka rubbed) with a rock while in my skivvies. Now to be clear, I have no problem participating in traditional ceremonies and stepping outside my comfort zone. (WARNING - This next part may be upsetting to some people.) But I became a bit suspicious that I was being taken advantage of when the guy started by pointing out that the particular rock he was using was phallic. Suspicion turned to alarm when he started rubbing it vigorously against my crotch while asking me to think of the best sexual experience I´d ever had. Oh my god, I thought, is this really happening to me? He asked me to tell him when it felt good, and so to get him to stop I said that yeah it was great, and then that was that - he called on somebody else and we went back to the group ceremonies. I spent the next hour and a half freaking out inside my head.

Afterwards - The maestro noticed that I was withdrawn and sulky, and from then on spent extra time talking with me to try to make things bettter. I flat out told him that what he had done had made me extremely uncomfortable. I was sure that he hadn´t done anything like that with anyone else so why had he done so with me? He skirted the issue and started talking about how a healer was like a father figure and how I´d better watch out because there were plenty of men out there who wanted to take advantage of me. I think he realized I knew that he had crossed the line, but played it off like everything was totally normal. He also predicted a white car in my future and a husband by age 27. Don´t worry, he said, everything is going to go well for you after this ceremony.

I left feeling disgusted and disappointed. I refused to attend the final part of the ceremony, which would have involved heading into the mountains to bathe in the lakes that the region is famous for. I talked with the owner of my hostel about what had happened and she admitted that while bodily cleansing with rocks is normal, the other part was a bit weird (especially since I hadn´t gone there to deal with men problems). But as is typical, she ultimately refused to place blame or admit wrong doing on the part of this respected man.

As for me, I got the hell out of that town and spent the last week (including New Year´s) in a popular hostel in Mancora that housed about a hundred other backpackers. It was on the beach and had a pool and constant sunshine. I feel much recovered, but felt that this was a significant experience that I should share. I was going to write two seperate posts, one on this experience and one on the positive things that have happened since then. Unfortunately I´ve just had to retype this whole entry after it was accidently deleted, so I think this will be it for now. I will report more on the good times in a few days, which mostly include getting a tan, meeting some great girlfriends and eating a lot. I´m currently in Vilcabamba, Ecuador with my friend Becca from Sweden, and will be relaxing here before heading to Guayaquil and the Galapagos.

Feliz Navidad.

Where to begin? I suppose by wishing you all happy holidays. Personally, I feel like I´ve kind of skipped them. My Christmas was the most uneventful ever, consisting of Macaroni and Cheese on Christmas eve and the sad discovery on Christmas day that the champagne I had bought was accidently drunk by someone else. But I´m actually very happy. While I must admit the season has got me thinking about Juneau a fair amount, I´ve pretty much become content traveling alone. I´m still in Trujillo actually, in a lovely hospedaje that until today only housed myself, a french girl, and a man from Denmark. We sat around on Christmas eve waiting for midnight, where in Peru everyone lights firecrackers. Other then there being hardly anyone on the streets on Christmas, it seemed like a pretty average day to me. All I did was buy a strawberry daquiri and a dessert which I decided to give to a homeless lady and her kids because they needed it more than me.

The picture you see above is of ceviche - raw fish and onions - which I ate at this little beach town 20 minutes from here. I also took a surfing lesson which quickly shattered my dreams of being a natural when I was pummeled by waves and never managed to stand up on the board. What else since I last wrote? I suppose I´ll just give you a quick rundown. Lev, a friend from Juneau who is traveling South met up with me in Huanchaco, the beach town right next door. We crashed a local party one night and ended up in a bar with live music drinking sangria and having a grand old time. I also saw some more ruins (Chan-Chan), went dancing, experienced what it´s like to work out in a Peruvian gym, made friends with a local tour guide and then ended that relationship a few days later by slapping him across the face after he seriously insulted me. I´ve sort of had it with these Peruvian men.

Hmm, the truth is that throughout the week I´ve had all kinds of great ideas for blog entries but at the moment I´m feeling like I have so many observations to make that instead I´m making none at all. I think it´s more effective if I write smaller entries but more often.

So sorry this is a bit boring, but stay tuned for the next entry where I will recount the spirit quest I´m about to go on with shamans in Huancabamba. Tonight I leave on a 16-hour bus ride to make it to this region famed for its healers and witch doctors. After that I´ll be in Mancora, another beach town that looks to be a good place to party on New Year´s.

Peruvian hairless dogs, which are protected. Yes, they are rather creepy looking.

Blog Features

First of all, be sure to scroll down as I´ve added pictures and a video! I just wanted to let everyone know how to comment because it sounds like there´s been some confusion. If you click underneath an individual blog entry where it says ¨x number of comments¨ it will ask you to choose an identity. If you click name/url or anonymous you don´t have to enter in an e-mail address or anything. The little envelope icon next to the number of comments link is if you find my blog entry so fascinating that you want to e-mail it to someone else. Thanks to everyone who has commented or e-mailed me, it makes my day!

Love and miss you all,
Lauren

Time vs. Money

True to my word, I´ve done nothing this last week except for veg out. I´ve been sharing a room in Lima with two forest firefighters from California. While they went to the gym every day for a few hours (to get in shape for the upcoming fire season) I lounged around reading, eating, walking and sleeping. The two interesting things that I did do were take several hours of salsa classes and go hang-gliding for ten minutes off the cliffs of Miraflores, the coastal area of Lima in which I was staying. To be honest, I didn´t even visit downtown Lima, because you know what? I just didn´t feel like it. Initially I felt guilty for not getting out and doing things every day but then I realized that it´s all my perogative.

I did have the best meal of my life when Stuart, my friend and former boss who was visiting Lima on business, took me out to eat at a classy restaurant called Rodrigo (http://www.restauranterodrigo.com/home.htm). We spent twenty minutes poring over the exotic menu, which read like a book and was bit overwhelming. In the end I settled on vacuum-stewed lamb´s leg with mushroom risotto. Oh man - it was to die for, along with all the little morsels they brought in between courses (including a shot of creamy asparagus and hall´s mint syrup mixed together). As you may have guessed, I´ve given up my recent attempt at vegetarianism while traveling because it´s just too much of a hassle.

Today I arrived in Trujillo, and tomorrow I´ll check out some of the ruins that are nearby. After that I´m off to a beach town called Mancora where I´m going to attempt to learn to surf. I don´t know where I´ll be for Christmas or New Year´s because since I´m by myself it doesn´t really seem to matter that much. I have decided to start telling cab driver´s I´m traveling with a boyfriend though, because otherwise our conversation turns to me traveling solo and then they start hitting on me. My being the whitest white girl around also elicits about a million honks from taxis driving by because they assume that I´m a tourist and therefore must need a ride somewhere, so they´re always honking and shouting ¨taxi?!¨ out their windows at me.

OK, that´s it for now. I must admit I feel that this post has been exceedingly boring and just touched on surface issues, which is exactly what I didn´t want this blog to do. I suppose I should share with you how I´m really beginning to realize what does and doesn´t matter in one´s life. This book I read called Vagabonding - The Art of Long Term Travel got to me with its discussion about how we all get wrapped up in this culture of production and consumption. It becomes a way of life to the point where it seems impossible to break away and travel. But you know what? It´s all about priorities (Augie - all your philosophies are proving true). I´m actually spending less a day then I would in Juneau and while I may have less stuff/money because I´m not working, I have endless amounts of time, which in my opinion is much more valuable.

Photos

At the Sacsayhuaman ruins in Cusco, otherwise known as Sexy Woman - I´m demonstrating

Great picture, but I had to pay her to take it. Cusco loves to hassle tourists

I thought my butt hurt from horseback riding until I tried the mule

View of oasis in Colca canyon on my way back up (via the mule)

Classic Macchu Pichu shot

I have many more pictures of these grubby but beautiful children

Some of the wildlife along the trek

At the Temple of the Moon in Cusco

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.

Week Two: Lauren gets burned.

Not only are my entire face, neck and ears peeling (post-blisters) from the worst sunburn of my life, but I also managed to get carsick, food poisoning, left behind and nearly molested. But aside from all that it´s actually been a phenomenol week.

I arrived at Machu Picchu two days ago, but not before completing a three day trek through the Lares valley. Don´t let the valley part fool you though; the highest peak on our trek was 4,500 meters up. There were many points where the incline was so steep that we were only able to hike about five minutes before stopping to catch our breath. A detailed description of the hike can be found at http://www.sastravelperu.com/english/alternativetreks.html.

The Andes were very impressive, and no picture can really capture what it feels like to be in the middle of these massive mountains. It did remind me of Denali National Park, perhaps because it gave me that same sense of insignificance. It´s easy to forget that humans aren´t everything when you´re in a city surrounded by human-sized things, but it´s all put into perspective when you´re just a dot on this vista of magnificent proportions. One of many dots really, the others consisting of llamas, alpacas, bulls, cows, chickens, boars, horses, sheep and dogs (of which there are breeds of all kinds roaming freely through Cusco).

I was blown away by the people living in these mountains, villagers who are extremely poor and live off of the land. We´d go for miles without seeing anyone and then in the middle of nowhere we´d run into these beautiful grubby children or women in traditional dress who were set up on a blanket with things to sell us. We brought gifts for the kids and I gave away my bottle of painkillers to a family who had lost a child since the last time the guide had visited them. They were all so happy to recieve anything, even something as simple as a yellow balloon, a leftover bowl of soup or a dollar. The whole experience was possibly more overwhelming than Machu Picchu itself. I won´t bore you with all the little details, but suffice to say Machu Picchu is everything it´s cracked up to be and the Inca legacy is fascinating.

Unfortunately, I wasn´t feeling that great while touring the ruins because of the previous day, so I didn´t hike Wayna Picchu, the neighboring mountain. First I had to stay an extra night away from Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu town) because my train ticket hadn´t been purchased ahead of time, then when I did arrive I became violently ill from something I ate. Worst of all was when a random Peruvian dude who worked at the hostel came into my room at 2:30 in the morning to ask if I wanted company. It was super creepy and I had to spend five minutes convincing him to leave while he was touching my arm and I was retreating under the covers. Needless to say, I reported him the next morning and will be locking my door from now on. I will also never again forget to put on sunscreen, or to remove my card from the ATM machine - two lessons I´ve learned the hard way.

So what are you doing in South America? Well, uh, you see...

The morning after writing my last blog entry I woke up thinking, ¨What the hell have I gotten myself into?¨ It´s only my first week but I´ve already realized how many hours are in a day, how many days are in a month and how six months is actually quite a long time. While in the central plaza surrounded by traveling couples and groups and locals constantly asking me to buy things, I found myself feeling lonely and lost. I really have no idea what I´m doing with this trip but I´ve decided to be ok with that - especially since I made some friends to distract me.

At a salsa class last night I met a lovely German couple named Siggi (that´s right, they both have the same nickname) and today we went on a horseback ride to some ruins. While I was embarrassed to find myself yelling when we broke into a gallop (it definitely felt like I was about to fly off) the trip itself was great. Sunshine, the biggest clouds I´ve ever seen and the Temple of the Moon - a sort of cave constructed by the Incas where at exactly two o´clock either the moon or the sun shines through a hole in the roof, illuminating a vast shelf where they used to sacrifice alpacas.

Speaking of alpacas, here´s some Peruvian visuals for you. Women and children on the cobblestone road playing jacks while baby alpacas cuddle in their laps. A group of about twenty teenagers practicing some sort of native dance to a flute. Signs in the bathrooms reminding you not to put even toilet paper in the toilets because Peruvian plumbing is so bad (they provide little trashcans instead). Miniature taxis honking at you to get out of the way while they barrel through the narrow streets and ignore medians. Dark brown older women with long black braids wearing a traditional sort of top hat, long skirts and colorful cardigans.

But there are many sides to this city. Last night the Siggies and I had a long talk with the owner of their hostel. He spoke of how difficult it was make enough money to support his family. 50% of his profits go to the government, 5% to electricity and 5% to water. He blamed the president for certain things, and the mentatility of the people who don´t want to work for others, which I found it to be an interesting juxtapostion. We also talked about the justice system in Peru, and he mentioned that while women are often beaten and the men aren´t punished, child molesters have been burned alive by the villagers or raped by the police. Es ojo por ojo. Pretty heavy stuff, but poverty and lack of justice are clearly a reality here, especially in rural areas.

I have much to see and much to learn. Tomorrow I will start my trek to Machu Picchu, passing through several indiginious villages that hadn´t been in contact with the ¨modern world¨ until sometime during the last hundred years. I am quickly realizing how much I have and how much I could cast off and be totally fine without, both in my backpack and in my life. Ah, having the free time to philosophize - I hardly know where to begin, let alone where I might end up.

"Good morning cherry pie..."

Quite possibly the best pickup line I´ve ever received. I almost forgot what it´s like to be in a country where machismo is the norm, but I was quickly reminded as I strolled around Lima on Tuesday in shorts and a tank top. I was definitely the whitest person around, and felt like I was on display for every guy that walked by, be they fourteen or seventy years old. But it was probably 80 degrees and very humid, the kind of weather where you never really feel clean or cool. I was worried that for the rest of the trip I would smell like sweat and sunblock, but now that I´m in Cusco it´s not so bad. It´s much less sticky here, although apparently we´re at the time of year where it might rain some - but only for hours at time, as opposed to days. Coming from the Juneau summer of hell, I´ll take it.

I only had a full day in Lima (although I´ll be back on the 8th), which I used to walk to the beach and read books. I was thrilled to find that dinner - which included a sandwich, salad, smoothie, and gelato - only cost me $5. I flew to Cusco really early this morning and slept till one in the afternoon in an attempt to preempt any altitude sickness I might get from suddenly being 11,600 ft. above sea level. I guess I left Lima at a good time because there´s an international conference going on this week and things will be shut down for security reasons. There were hundreds of guards milling about and it sounds like Bush and his gang have commandeered the entire Marriot hotel.

In Cusco I´m doing a homestay for $90 a week, meals included. I´ve already had my first cup of cocoa tea, which instantly relieved the stuffy nose I´d gotten from the humidity and mold in Lima. I might have to send some home along with a box of all the beautiful handicrafts they have for sale. It´s a veritable bazaar of jewelry, sweaters and artwork, but I´ve forced myself not to buy anything yet since I´m backpacking.

I haven´t really taken any pictures yet, but have no fear, they´re coming. I wanted to take my camera out in the cab this afternoon, where my driver had little postcards decorated in glitter that depicted Jesus lashing himself along with some sort of religious quote. They were hanging from the inside of his windshield via those little suction cups. He also had a plastic handle with a dove in it in place of where the stick shift knob normally is. It is also important to note that driving here is not for the faint at heart. As far as I can tell you just go wherever you damn well please and honk your horn at whoever happens to be in your way. Never mind the white lines on the road or right of way.

So that´s enough observations for now, I don´t want to bore you before anything´s really happened! Next item on the agenda: a four-day hike to Machu Picchu beginning on Saturday.

Novels and Sunshine

I've been in Arizona this last week, trying to relax a little before I hit the road. My stepfather has a house in Bisbee, a tiny little town that used to be a big mining town but is now more of haven for artists and old hippies. They sell bumper stickers that declare Bisbee "a liberal oasis in a desert of conservatism." I like it.

The first day I arrived here (Monday) was probably one of the best days I've had since leaving Juneau. There isn't television or an internet connection at the house, which leaves music and books and the outdoors as my only company. Given that the places where I was staying in San Diego and Portland both had cable television, one with HBO on demand, this is quite refreshing. I've decided to never live anywhere with cable because I absolutely cannot turn it off, perhaps because I didn't have access to it growing up. Now before you know it I've watched six hours in a row of a show about vampires living in the modern day.

No, from now on it's the simple life for me. My first night here I sat in the garden for a half an hour and just studied the leaves and the bugs. Then I listened to all of the CDs that we have lying around, which are all throwbacks to earlier generations: Neil Young, Bonnie Raitt, The Eagles, Billie Holiday, etc. I've been reading nonstop since I arrived and have easily fallen back into my childhood habit of walking around with a book in my hand, completely absorbed while skillfully avoiding running into things or people.

Today I bought a copy of Tuesdays with Morrie and read the whole thing in a few hours while sitting outside in the sun. It was the perfect book to read before I leave, what with its reflections on what is truly important in life versus what our culture emphasizes. My most recent fears about my trip, like that I would bring the wrong kind of shoes or that my new water bottle would still taste like plastic, were quickly erased as I realized none of that really mattered. I'm making this journey and everything will fall into place regardless of what I do or do not plan for.

That being said, I'm finally feeling like I've got everything ready. I've packed well - my bag is 50L and weighs about 25lbs. when fully loaded. I bought enough dramamine to knock out a bull and finally settled on an anti-malaria pill that doesn't cost $1,000 or induce psychosis as a side effect. I've brought along a harmonica and a journal and just picked up a copy of one of my favorite books, In the House of the Spirits by Isabelle Allende. I know where I'm staying Monday night and have a ticket to Cusco on Wednesday, from which I'll book a hiking trip up Machu Picchu. I've been fretting about the little details for the last few days now, but after reading in the sun for a few hours I've let it all go.

There is the fact that I'm not feeling very confident about my Spanish which I, well, majored in, but I suppose one of the points of this trip is to get it back. I found an awesome book in the used bookstore from 1960 called A Practical Spanish Grammar, which pretty much contains all the notes I ever took about verb tenses. The funny thing is that it's adapted from A Practical Spanish Grammar for Border Patrol Officers. But in this day and age I can't imagine minutemen studying to improve their Spanish in the hopes that they might better communicate with Mexican immigrants. I guess we've advanced in some ways and regressed in others.

Anyway, that's about it for now. Sorry for such a long post; I've had a lot on my mind. Thanks for taking the time to read this - I hope to post at least once a week. Oh man, wrapping this up it's really starting to hit me - by Monday night, I will be in Lima. No job, no cell phone and no return ticket.

But you know what? I can't wait.