Back to the Andes

No, no relation to time traveling....although at times it seems entirely possible that I have just stepped back into another world or dimension (both infact on many levels). The first experiences of crossing from Chile to Peru are surreal. You step from a semi-European culture, especially in the south of Chile, to a deserted desert....redundant, I know, but there really isn't any other way to describe the Atacama region that leads to the Andes region. Dry, dusty mountains rise up out of sand. Dunes plunge down to the ocean. Terrains become rocky and complexions darken. Boulders appear to have been strewn about the desert surface without any indication as to the source. Further into the Andes, snow capped mountains rise above lush green rolling hills. Abandoned or yet-to be-completed stone and adobe structures litter the curving roadsides. At times, the twists and turns are nearly unbearable. I practice the tricks I've learned for dealing with such sickness, deep breaths, pressure points, and the waves of nausea pass (not helped by the aromas of people and interesting foods). At one pitstop, I sample rubbery "fried" cheese served in a bag with hot sauce, boiled potatoes, and something unidentifiable that a woman across the aisle politely informs me are papas seca, dried potatoes, that are rehydrated and cooked. I'm not sure why they exist except for being a convenient way to store potatoes....but why serve them with boiled potatoes, which seem to be about the same thing....except less spongy.

Peru was just a blip on the map of countless hours of bus travel on the way down from Ecuador to Argentina. Technically more than a blip, but I think I slept through most of it. I am excited to be back in a country that holds so much preserved heritage and history. Hours worth of cattle, sheep, alpaca, and their smaller stick-figure like cousins, vicuña, graze quietly in the fields and on terraced hills. Living amongst these hills, in small villages, sometimes spread very far apart, are the Quechua and Aymara people. The women are distinct in their dress with layers of skirts that have lace eyelets, embroidery, sparkled velvet, paired with jewel-toned sweaters, dress sandals, and always a brightly colored, sometimes neon print, blanket that carries food, supplies, children ...and that's just the everyday wear. Celebrations call for more elaborate embroidery, more sequins, more colors!! The men dress fairly modern, albeit slightly more classy and dressed up than the average Peruano.

The majority of my time is spent in Coya, a small town lying between popular Pisac and Ollantaytambo, west of Cusco. Gabriel, my delightful "child of the sun" 6 year-old nephew, goes to a Waldorf-style school in Pisac. For one week, while his mom's were on the Inka Trail, I had the distinct pleasure of entertaining him, or vice versa, like letting him get his haircut into an awesome faux-hawk (see below), many dance parties, fancy meals, and story telling adventures. Being here with family has been amazing. Memories that are built together, stories that we share of our separate journeys, what we are learning during our day-to-day, supporting each other through the trials, are innumerable and unforgettable. Today, I feel very thankful.

~B