Travel.Peru
Peru
MARCH/APRIL
After 3 hours of constant low turbulence we landed at Cusco airport. Coming from the last row we are the last ones in line at immigration. Our taxi driver hates us and there are seemingly no road lines and no rules for driving in Cusco, just honks and hope. We arrive outside the airbnb and a sweet familiar scent fills my nose, a honeysuckle plant is climbing the gate next to us. It soon starts to rain. Everywhere we look is lush and green. A stark yet perfect contrast to the orange shingled roofs. Moss lines the cobblestones and paths. It is barely humid, but at an elevation of 11,000ft , the air still feels dry. Each door is painted with an ultramarine or cerulean blue paint. Two steps from our front door is a mini market run by a wife and husband who speak only Spanish. They give us a free bubblegum lollipop so they don’t have to count the change, and an extra coca tea pack, on the house. The green avocados from their store are perfectly ripe. Huge and creamy insides. We will have to live off them because we cannot seem to find where else to buy food.
The apartments in Cusco are marked by their large, multi-paneled windows. Each one with 6-10 panels, one or two of them inset with a latch for opening and closing. The windows seem symbolic of something, something I don’t quite know. Perhaps it is for watching the massive low clouds parade the sky, like balloons being pulled by string. Or for seeing the rain pour down so you don’t have to check the weather before leaving. Or perhaps because the natural light, and the natural view, connects to the natural world that the Incans, and all of us, are so fond of. I feel as though I am living in a bowl. The mountain walls towering above us, with the clouds an opening above us. If there were a place to believe in heaven, or something heavenly, it would be here.
Braids
The year I turned 23 was the year I learned to braid my hair. I did a lot of other things, but most importantly, I learned to braid my hair. It’s not like I literally couldn’t braid, I just wanted to be better. It started in Estes Park, where I would French braid the top of my hair and pull it back out of my face for work at the hotel each morning. Oftentimes I would do it quickly in the bathroom mirror after I had already clocked in. I wanted to look cute but professional. In August I began tying my mother’s Hermes silk scarf into the braids, having it fall down heavily behind my head, heavy, but oh so chic.
When we went to Mexico I decided I would, once and for all, grow out my natural hair color. I read that braiding your hair protects it, so I spent every morning and every night french or dutch braiding it, in 2 or 4 or 6 braids. Out of my face and safe from the salt water, I even oiled the ends that weren’t tied up. In Cusco I mastered the double Dutch braid. A style that actually gave my thin, flat hair some volume. It looked good. I braided it each morning before embarking on my journey into the city center and to the gym. I finally felt like an adult, at 23, my braided pigtails bouncing behind me.
Mornings
Walking down to the gym at 6:00am everyday is my favorite part about Cusco. I wish I could say it was the carnival, or the crowded food markets, or the way that the streets come to life with people and color. But I’ve always liked things quiet. The sun is only beginning to rise over those tall Andes peaks, the air is still cool and the clouds still cast a blue shadow over everything.
A few steps from the front door the construction workers are gathering for their meeting. With their maroon jackets and hard hats they smile and greet me as I walk between them. A few ran past me to join the group late. They are always kind and respectful, unlike the young construction men who whistle at me from their vehicles. They will soon be mixing concrete, cutting rocks, and drilling, but as I pass, they are only preparing.
Only one money exchange seller stands on the corner at 6:00am, and the newspaper boy is just beginning to set up his stand, individually clipping each paper to his board. The streets are beginning to dry from the night prior, and the churches are silent. The only sounds are the birds waking up and gentle, quiet ‘buenos dias’s’s said to each person I pass.
There is no rush. The steep stairs make sure of this. I take my time, the cobblestone quiet beneath my feet. I practice keeping my chin high, my shoulder pointed, making eye contact and smiling at each person I pass. It is in the safe space of dawn where I practice my confidence in interacting with the world. And also the joy of it. I know that when I arrive at the gym the front desk girl, with a name that sounds like Caroline, will smile and giggle at my bad Spanish and greet me. I look forward to seeing her each day, and have to remind myself to translate how to say that I missed her when I see her after her days off.
Hike to Sinaq
A light rain drizzles continuously upon our backs. The ground is many shades of gold, brown, and red clay, all wet and slick. I am not sure why we thought it might be a good idea to hike in the rainy season on an unmarked trail, but we were already there. After 2 miles the trail departed from the mud and offshot straight up, an intense incline, onto patchy grass. A few moments after beginning the climb a distant bark began. Looking over my shoulder I could see three dogs sprinting towards us, they descended the valley as if horses charging into war, they made the terrain beneath them seem like nothing but a pile of sand, as opposed to the reality of rough rocks and roots upon a steep mountain. “Oh fuck”. The wild dogs in Peru were typically friendly, and nonchalant about visitors, but we were far from the city. 30 seconds later the barks were right behind us, they had sprinted up the incline, and they were not happy to see us. One large black lab was growling and barking, its tail raised, ready to fight, with it was a small white shepherd puppy, and behind both of them was a docile tri-colored dog who walked on three legs, who was only there because it had to follow the others. Eventually we realized we could get the black lab to stop its aggressiveness if we stopped and pet the puppy. The only issue was that once we tried to stop and continue our hike, the aggressive stalking began again. The dogs followed us for another mile of the hike. Eventually the barking stopped. There we were, the only ones on the mountain, amidst fog and clouds, with a pack of three dogs in tow. We sat there for a moment, all of us, overlooking the lush, towering Andes.
Shattered Glass
I woke up early this morning. I got out of bed on the 4th alarm rather than the 10th. I put on my coat, but didn’t braid my hair, telling myself I’d fix my hair at the gym. Then for some reason, I put my preworkout into an old glass juice jar, so that I could sip it while I walked.
Normally I drink all of my preworkout before leaving the house, but not today. I walked halfway down the steep alley when I tried to move which hand held my umbrella, and subsequently dropped my full bottle of preworkout, shattering the glass into a million pieces on the street. I froze for a moment, taken aback by the loud high pitched crack of glass, amongst the otherwise silent morning street. Then I picked up the largest shards and walked them to an open trash bag sitting on the street. I want to say that it didn’t affect me, but at the gym I was full of anxiety, feeling watched by every other person, and on the way home I felt anger bubble inside me as people refused to walk in a single file, forcing me to step into the oncoming traffic if I wanted to pass them.
I remember a period of time when I lived in Denver, I broke 3 different bowls and cups in the span of two weeks. Just dropped and shattered. I googled what it might mean, because it seemed like such a strange pattern and occurrence. It is supposed to signify transformation or change, as if a blockage has been removed, and it is a sign of good things coming your way.
It did not feel like it of course, this morning, when I embarrassed myself by randomly dropping the jar. But I think back to when I was 8 years old, and my mom and I sat in the car, about to leave the garage. The garage light didn’t work, and so we had to take a minute to turn the light off by getting out, prolonging our departure. My mom looked at me and said that perhaps the light was the universe's way of protecting us, and that if we had left on time we might have crashed the car backing out of the driveway, or something else bad. Perhaps the moment it took me to pick up the glass shards was protecting me from an encounter with a bad individual, or from being hit by a car. Or maybe it was a sign for me to slow down in life, that I needed to take a second. Or maybe it made it possible for me to talk to the front desk girl at the gym because I had to buy a preworkout drink when I arrived.
A negative experience on the surface, is most likely, a blessing in disguise. Just because I can not see the blessing, does not mean it exists.
Leaving
The morning we left Cusco I ate two of the most perfect cherimoyas I have ever had, and of course a yellow dragonfruit. A reminder, Peru is fresh and beautiful. As we drag our luggage down the 120 step staircase I see Ty waving to someone behind me. When I turn to look I see the ‘mustache’ construction worker waving enthusiastically goodbye to use. I am so glad that we got to see him as we left. I think I might just miss him the most out of everybody in Cusco. As we load our bags into the Uber the Beagle Market lady walks out for a smoke and wishes us a goodbye and safe travels. I will miss her too. I quite like Peru, I like the strangers turned friends, I like not knowing the language well, I like the fruits and the corner markets. I like eating quinoa, carrot, potato, and salt soup. I like how SIMPLE it all is. I think most suffering comes from complicated life. 17 hour layover in Colombia. I go through customs to self-transfer our bags, causing a 40 min line hold up behind me at the United counter. Bless the lady that lets me through.
I feel a pang of fear, what if I don’t fit into normal life? Alas, the show goes on.
