The End.

So, I'm sitting in the Lima airport.

Suffering through a 10 hour layover by drinking shitty South American beer.

And I'm sad.

After Machu Picchu, it finally kind of hit me that my trip was coming to a close.

Yesterday was rainy.

Cold, nasty, rainy.

To top it off, there's this festival happening in Cuzco where people throw buckets of water or water balloons on passersby and aggressively spray the with shaving cream.  Like from two inches from your face.

And if you think that they don't target white, American girls, you are sorely mistaken.

Needless to say, our one outing into the markets (not to mention the aforementioned rain), ended in four cold, wet, cranky, white, American girls, sticky with shaving cream residue.

So we trekked back through streets covered in at least an inch of rain water to drink hot toddies and cook dinner at Laura's apartment.

It was a truly perfect and relaxing end to the trip -- despite the dampness.

My emotions are in conflict with each other.

Like I said, I am sad.

I burst into tears saying bye to Maggie this morning and all I really want right now is to be eating shitty Peruvian baked goods in a cafe with my two compañeras.

But I am also excited.

For San Francisco.

To see my family.

To plan the next step.

And then there is the jumble of other emotions: anxious, thankful, confused, slightly airport drunk -- the list goes on.

True to character, I am being ranty, cheesy, and emotional.

Let's just go with it for a few more minutes:

Thank you Mom and Dad for putting up with my angst as I saved to make this trip possible.

Thank you, Ryan, for continued support and for experiencing my trip second hand and always offering company, distraction, and words of wisdom over late-night, shitty wifi.

Thank you to all of my friends that encouraged this trip from the beginning.

Thank you to the amazing Laura Koes for for offering her company and guidance during the last few days of my trip -- you are truly a beautiful soul.

Thank you, Amanda for being the one that made me get off my ass and do this in the first place! For your companionship, your rationale, and all of the jokes.  I am happy we're friends now.

And Maggie.

Where to start!

You are such an inspiration to me.

Who knows if this crazy trip would have ever happened if it wasn't for your picking up and moving to Colombia on a whim?

Thank you for being our translator and our mom.  For your grace and hospitality.

I love you and I cannot wait to see you again!

Anyway, I'll leave it at that.

Cheesy, beer-induced rant.

I guess next you hear from me, I will have resumed my normal, boring blogging.

I'll let you all look forward to that.

Not sure what else to say other than the usual:

Thanks for reading.

WHAT A TRIP.

The Mach and Other Adventures

So, true to the rest of our arrival times throughout the trip, we got to Cuzco late.

Really late.

It was raining and every hostel we looked into was way out of our price range.

Finally we found a dingy one in a sketchy back alley and decided "whatever, it's just one night."

So we got into our beds and went to sleep.

Except that I couldn't actually sleep at all.

I think it was about 5:00am by the time I finally nodded off.

With plans to meet up with my friend Laura from Vermont (who is currently teaching English in Cuzco) at 10:00am, I got a solid 3.5/4 hours of sleep.

But the adrenaline at seeing my friend kept me going through most of the day.

We treated ourselves to lovely breakfast of waffles, fruit, and real coffee (as opposed to the watery instant coffee we'd been drinking the rest of the trip).

We then went on a long walk to a lookout over the city and headed back down into the city center to visit some of the renowned markets to look at gifts to bring back to our friends and family in the states.... and maybe a few gifts for ourselves.

Our shopping was followed by a trip to the chocolate museum and pisco sours at a local watering hole.

The next day, Amanda and I purchased tickets for Machu Picchu and began the long journey to Aguas Calientes, the small jungle village that one must travel to in order to see the ancient ruins.

After making friends with some Mexican gentlemen on our train ride, we finally arrived in Aguas Calientes and found a hostel.

We went to bed early that night as we had plans to wake up at 4:00am and hike up to Machu Picchu.

4:00am came very quickly and we groggily rolled out of bed, got our things together, and went downstairs to have breakfast.

Shortly thereafter, we began our trek up the mountain.

I think we both figured that after all of the trekking around that we had done so far, this hike would be a breeze.  And it was so early in the morning, there was no way it was going to get too hot.

Wrong.... and wrong.

The entire hike is a set of stone steps, built into the side of the mountain and I wouldn't describe it as an incline as much as a near vertical ascension from bottom to top.

And if you think that it's easier to climb steep steps than a steep hill, I am inclined to say that you are sorely mistaken.

Then it got hot.

Fast.

By the time we were half way up, we were both drenched in sweat and panting like winded carthorses.

But, finally, we made it.

Machu Picchu is incredible.

It come highly recommended and is a very humbling thing to experience.

Especially with all of the modern technology that we take advantage of in this day and age.

However, on any given day, at any time of year, one must remember that there are hundreds of other tourists that want to come and be humbled by the vast mountaintop of ancient Incan ruins.

What I'm trying to say is that Machu Picchu is a very popular tourist destination.

And it was kind of hard to really soak up what I was seeing and experiencing as girls with perfectly straightened hair in Nike sports bras took selfies with each other a few feet away from me.

But maybe this viewpoint is just me being skeptical and self-righteous -- "I am way better at being a tourist than those girls."

After about 5 hours of walking around the ruins and the surrounding areas, Amanda and I began our descent and our long journey back to Cuzco which included a colectivo ride from hell in which a stray dog was killed and we were about two hours later in returning than we should have been.

So there's a quick little synopsis of my first days in Cuzco and me trip to the Mach.

Cuzco is awesome.

And Machu Picchu is pretty amazing.

But don't take my word for it, go see for yourself.

February 11 - Lake Titicaca

After indulging myself with a yoga class on Monday morning, we took a late afternoon bus from Arequipa to Puno, a town on the banks of the amazing Lake Titicaca.

For some reason, this bus ride was one of the worst yet.  

I passed the first couple of hours reading Pride and Prejudice, then the sun went down and I was subjected to failed attempts at sleeping while the same 100 songs that I'd been listening to for the past three weeks played over and over in my ears.

Finally, around 11:00pm, our bus arrived and we took a cab to the center of town where we were navigated the streets filled with the residual crowds from Carnival (a festival that occurs throughout the month of February in Peru) wandering drunkenly around us.  

After a bit of a wild goose chase, we found a hostel, asked the appropriate questions about Lake Titicaca tours, and promptly fell asleep.

We woke up early the next morning, ate breakfast and left for our two day tour of the lake.

This particular tour was advertised as the most cost-effective and all-inclusive option.  

We would visit the floating islands, ride in the boats made of reeds, stay with a family from a local community who would take us to a celebration in order to immerse us in their culture, and we would explore some of the different areas of the lake.

Sounds like a pretty great experience, right?

The truth is, I had mixed feelings.

Lake Titicaca itself? 

Hands down, one of the most amazing places I have ever been.

At 12,555 ft, it is the largest navigable lake in the world.

Its vastness is truly humbling.

On the first evening of the tour, we climbed up to el Templo de Pachatata to watch the sunset.

When we reached the temple, high on a hill, I sat and simply stared at the massive body of still water in front of me.  With misty mountains, seemingly, rising from its depths at various visual intervals.

However, in regard to the cultural aspect of the tour, I was not as impressed as I had thought I would be.

The floating islands are amazing.

And it was definitely very interesting to learn about the cultures of the people that live on the various islands of the lake.

However, it felt a little bit like the tour was exploiting these cultures.

Even stranger, it felt as though these communities were embracing and taking advantage of this exploitation.  

When the tour advertised that we would be staying with a local family, I was quite excited.  However, it turned out that staying with a local family meant... just that.  Sleeping in their house.  There was little to no interaction between our hosts and us.  

We ate in separate rooms and slept in separate rooms, if we asked them any questions, they would answer, but were not inclined to further engage themselves in our conversations.

Furthermore, the women, who spend much of their time, hand-knitting sweaters, hats, and scarves and crocheting little toys, all to sell at local markets, were very shameless in their attempts to sell their wares.

At first, it is easy to feel sorry for them.

Their communities probably don't have a lot of money, you should support their local economy, etc.

Sure, I'm all about it.

However, when I feel like their is a distinct expectation that each and every tourist is going to purchase an over-priced item of clothing, I begin to feel slightly uncomfortable.  Not only did I get the impression of their self-exploitation but there was also an element of exploitation in regard to the tourists that are being passively pressured into buying these goods.

And when you think about it, if these families have tourists coming to stay with them five out of seven nights of the week, with each individual paying the Peruvian equivalent of $35.  These communities are probably actually making quite a lot of money.

Lastly, I think the thing that made us all the most uncomfortable was the local celebration.

We were all expected to dress in traditional garb and go to what I can only explain as the equivalent of a rec-center to listen to the music of their people and dance with our various host families.

As a foreigner, wearing their traditional clothing while knowing so little about their culture, I felt very out of place and uncomfortable. 

Maybe I am analyzing it too much.

The tourism industry is probably a very lucrative way for these communities to make money in order to sustain the lifestyles specific to each culture.

I guess my problem was that I felt that that was exactly how it was treated.

A way to make money.

They did the bare minimum in order to "meet" the expectations of the tourists and the administrators of the tour companies, whether or not they particularly cared about sharing their culture with foreigners.

But I guess that's life, no matter where you are in the world - 

Do what you have to do to make money in order to sustain your desired quality of life.

Anyway, that was a bit rant-y and I apologize.

Just food for thought, I suppose.

On to Cuzco!