Collectivos and Sun burns

Claudia (my very blonde German current travel buddy) and I have been enjoying the beach town of Arica, Chile for the last two days. There is a clear difference between Chile and Peru, even though we are only about 45 minutes from the border between the two countries. Chile is one of the richest countries in South America and that is very obvious when you walk around the center esplanade in Arica. There are more supermarkets, more nice cafes and restaurants that are aimed not so much towards tourists (which there are less of than in Arequipa) as towards locals with some money in their pocket. There are more big boxesque, Western style stores and fewer (though they are still around) hole in the wall markets. And people look different, a little more "European." I am interested to see how things change as I head south.

I am staying with a couch surfer again, a 36 year old policeman who LOVES couchsurfing. He pretty much has a couchsurfer staying with him almost every day of the week. For the last week and a half he has also had a Chilean from Santiago staying with him who is HILARIOUS! Our first night he gave us a history lesson on the War of the Pacific between Peru-Bolivia and Chile. He doesn´t speak any English and Chilean spanish is much faster and more slurred than Peruvian spanish so he kept having to slow down and repeat things really clearly and then I would have to translate to Claudia. Both Claudia and I were exhausted and by the end of it I was throwing in Italian words and when someone said something in English I translated it, unnecessarily, into Spanish for Claudia. Before the War of the Pacific Bolivia had coastline and Chile was like 2/3rds the size it is now. After the war Bolivia got screwed out of access to the ocean and Chile somehow ended up with the mineral rich area that is now Northern Chile. Oh, and Peru and Chile still fight over where their maritime borders are. Its interesting to see on the one hand how things change when you cross a border and on the other hand how man-made and false borders are. The Peruvian town closest to Chile is called Tacna. After the War of the Pacific Tacna was part of Chile but in 1929 Tacna voted to become part of Peru again and Chile peacefully handed it over. Poof. Borders change, just like that.

A year or so ago I read this article about an iphone app in New York where people in similar parts of the cities looking to take taxis to the same general area could find each other and share the cab. The article was pointing out on the one hand the level of trust of getting in a cab with a stranger (lets talk about couch surfing...) and on the other using technology as a tool in our lives. Well iphone using-taxi taking New Yorkers I hate to break it to you but Chile figured out this taxi issue without using any fancy smart phone apps. There are collectivos all over the place. A collectivo is essentially a communal taxi, really half taxi half bus. They are cars that drive the same route over and over again and you can flag them down on any part of the route and you pay about $1 to go where it is that you are going. Half way along your route someone else will flag them down and hop in. It is faster than a bus because the routes are shorter and a collectivo comes by every minute or less. Pretty fabulous.

A few final notes:
1. The sun in Northern Chile is very strong and if there is any part of your body that you don´t put sunscreen on it will turn red in a very short amount of time.
2. I am not yet sure if this is a coastal thing or a Chilean versus Peruvian thing, but Claudia (my blonde German travel buddy) and I have been cat-called more in the last two days than I was in my entire week and a half in Peru.
3. Its a small small world. While hiking in Colca Canyon I ran into my first group of Americans, four girls who study at the University of Washington. Last night they showed up at the house where I´m couchsurfing.
4. I am NOT yet on Latin American time, where pre-gaming before you go out starts at 11:30 or midnight and you GET to the club at 3am.
5. Skipping dinner because you had cake and coffee at 6pm is never a good idea.

Travel Legs

To be completely honest it has taken me a little while to get into the swing of traveling. The first few days I was just going through the motions and not completely enjoying myself. Traveling alone was lonelier than I remembered. My Spanish was not coming out of my mouth easily. I felt out of it and not on top of the whole travel persona. I was lost in my head, thinking about all of the changes that have taken place in my life recently...You get the point. People talk about getting your "sea legs" when you are out at sea for a long time, I have finally gotten my travel legs back. My Spanish is coming a little easier. I feel more confidant negotiating. I almost got robbed but they didn´t get anything because I had thought about where I put myself in advance (take that people trying to get into my backpack! My passport & credit card were in there but you didn´t get it nananana). It feels good.

I have spent much longer in Arequipa than I intended, but its been nice to sort of center myself somewhere after bouncing from place to place to place. I just got back to the city after a 3 day hiking trip in Colca Canyon. If you ever come to Peru you must try to go to Colca, even if you just do the whirlwind one day trip from Arequipa. It is absolutely beautiful. Near the beginning of the canyon it is lush green, terraced landscaped. The land is divided by stone walls and there are sheep, llamas, and cows grazing and fields of corn being farmed by the locals. The women here mostly still wear native dress, though the kids and the men are dressed in western clothing. Colca Canyon is the second deepest in the world (the deepest is also in Peru) which makes me sound more badass than I am when I say I hiked down to the bottom and back. Hiking into the Grand Canyon was much harder. When you hike into Colca Canyon you don´t start at the top of the canyon so its much easier than it sounds like it should´ve been.

There are a number of villages in the canyon that are only reachable on foot or by mule. The first day we hiked down about 3 hours to the town of San Juan something something (clearly I remember). It was a gorgeous oasis of green and flowers and beauty. There we ate lunch and the hiked another 1 or so to the next town, Cosnihrua, where we spent the night in the house of a local family. I should mention who "we" is. There were four people in my group, a swiss-ecuadorian couple (Veronica & Silvan) and a german (Claudia) plus our guide, Lucia. Claudia, Veronica and Silvan had met a few days earlier in Nasca and were fabulous travel companions. Our second day in the canyon we hiked to an oasis, an absolutely stunning little resort deep in the canyon with bungalows, flowers, and pool complete with water features. We lounged the afternoon away until the rains came and then spent the evening playing cards and feeling superior to the hikers doing the 2 day trip as they arrived soaking wet. The rainy season in Peru is interesting. The mornings are typically beautiful, warm, and sunny and you suit up accordingly in shorts and a t-shirt. Around 2 o'clock the clouds start to roll in and the rains come between 3 and 4pm, when you change into pants, a long sleeve shirt, and raincoat and probably a fleece as well. Our last day in canyon started at 5am for a 2.5-3 hour hike up a steep zig zag trail. At the top we were delighted to have eggs accompany the typical bread and jam breakfast. After breakfast we drove to hot springs, which felt amazing, and then ate a buffet of all sorts of local foods.  It was a very wonderful trip.

On the way back to Arequipa I convinced Claudia to travel to Chile with me for the next few days and take Ruta 11 to Parque Nacional Lauca with me and then on to Bolivia without me (I will be heading south). So tomorrow morning I will pick up her up at 6am and to the bus station we will go. Ready travel legs? Cause its on. Chile, here I come!

Week One Photos

Clarence and a little girl that was intrigued by him, Plaza de las Armas, Arequipa Peru

Me and sandboard in Huacachina

Clarence befriends a llama in Arequipa (this one was 100 soles, which is like $35)

Sand angels!

Scene inside a church in Lima

Policia in Plaza Mayor, Lima

Pachuko, my Peruvian friend from Trujillo who I met in Lima (wearing my sunglasses)

a display at Huaca Pucllana in Miraflores, Lima

The ugliest dog EVER

Huacachina, oasis in the sand dunes

Javier, my couch surfing host in Nasca

Aqueduct in nasca, built by pre-

Virginia, the mother of my couch surf host, trying on my Chacos. She thought they were very pretty

Seen on the street in Nasca, that would be a dude in drag with a very large ass and breasts. No explanation

Amy, the impossibly adorable niece of my host in Nasca

Dancing in Nasca

More dancing

and dancing

Mayra (the Colombiana), Stick (the dog), and me at Plaza de las Armas in Arequipa

The title of the blog is pricecheckingllamas so....These llamas cost 700 soles, which is about $250

Me, Maruchka, and Rosa, (the sister in law and sister of my couch surfing host)

Santa Catalina Monastery in Arequipa

The people

When we decide to travel we always focus on the places that we want to go, the things that we want to see, and the activities we want to do. But these aren´t the important parts of traveling. These are rarely the things that make a trip worth it or are what you talk about when you get home. So today I am only going to give you a couple of sentences about where I have been since my last post and I will focus on the people that I have met.

From Huacachina I took the bus to Nasca. Nasca is, frankly, an ugly boring town that would not be visited if it were not for the Nasca lines, strange massive shapes etched into the ground by the pre-Incans that weren´t discovered until the 1930s when someone flying over then noticed. I sat next to a lawyer on the bus who lives in both Nasca and Lima. The guy would NOT stop talking to me. He offered to buy me cebiche in Nasca, found a cab for me, and accompanied me to where I was staying in Nasca. In Nasca I was staying with a couchsurfer named Javier. If you haven´t heard of couchsurfing its basically an exchange where people who love traveling open their homes up to travelers. Its pretty awesome. Javier is in his 30s and loves couchsurfers. In the past two years he has had over 50 of them. I wouldn´t really say that Javier lives in a house. You go through a door from the street into a concrete courtyard where there is laundry drying and chickens in coops. Through the courtyard you enter a long room of sorts. Where there is a roof it is just a roll of thatch, the weather is nice enough year round that no roof is necessary. In this room there are a few tables, a stove that doesn´t work, a sink with no running water (there is no running water anywhere in the house) and doors that go off to other rooms. Three families live in this space, all relatives of Javier. Javier opens up the one room that is his to travelers. One of the interesting things is that Javier´s family has no real concept of how this couchsurfing works. They just know, as I overheard one of them say when I arrived, "Una otra gringa."

Javier is studying to be a tour guide, which in a country that depends on tourism like Peru does is a 3 year long course. He practices by taking his couch surfers on tours of the area around Nasca. In the evening he and I took a bicycle ride to archeological sites around the city. It was a bit freaky riding on the roads of Nasca, but once we weren´t out in the country side it was wonderful being able to see parts of the city that I wouldn´t have otherwise. Later in the evening I sat on the street, dogs and kids playing and running around us, and had a long conversation with Javier´s mother about love and heartbreak. It was a moment where I truly appreciated having learned about couchsurfing. How else would I have been talking with a 60 something year old Peruvian woman about the man from Cuzco she had loved who hadn´t loved her back?

The next day I was taking a night but from Nasca to Arequipa, which meant that I had ALL day in Nasca with little to do. Javier had left for Lima the night before for work. So I was bored all day, no one to hang out with, nothing to do. Then in the evening Javier´s sister and sister-in-law took me to the central plaza, where there was a fiesta for the town´s anniversary. We happened upon some traditional dancing, which was great to watch and then sampled some pisco and pisco sours. It was really really great and extra great because I was there with people who could explain everything to me. Much more exciting than being there by myself or with another traveler.


Ah, other travelers. Sometimes you end up attached to them without even knowing how. A Colombian girl with a dog was waiting for the same bus to Arequipa. In the hour and a half that we waited for the late bus we somehow joined forces without ever realizing or agreeing to it. I didn´t even know her name until we tramping around Arequipa at 9am looking for a hostel. The bus people told her that she couldn´t bring her dog on the bus and they assumed that I was traveling with her so for a moment I was swept into the "You can´t get on the bus" drama. Both of us ended up on the bus and then, without ever saying "want to get a taxi together" she just pulled me into the bargaining for a taxi and then into the finding a hostel. We ended up spending the entire day wandering through Arequipa, looking for the mirador where you can see the volcanos that overlook the town (everyone we asked kept saying it was just 3 more blocks. When we finally found it it was cloudy, no mountains to see) looking for a place for her to fix her camera, and then for me to find inserts for my shoes, then for shampoo for the dog, then...there was a lot of walking. It was interesting traveling around with a dog. We brought him into every store we went into and no one cared. It was off of its leash over half of the day and no one cared. People would just ooh and ah over how cute he was. The Colombian left for Cusco last night. I slept for 11 hours. Now I have to figure out what I am going to do next. I really like Arequipa. It is a
quieter place than the other places I´ve been. Less horn honking. I will probably take a trip to Colca Canyon. Then....Then I am trying to figure it out.

PS. I know that everyone wants pictures but (1) I brilliantly left my chord to connect the camera to the computer in the USA and haven´t bought a replacement and (2) I haven´t used a computer I could connect to anyway. I´ll try to get some up though. I know they are more interesting than my ramblings.

The futility of blending in

Blending in is the goal for most travellers and, let's be honest, approximately 90% of the time it's a futile endeavor. Granted I don´t look Peruvian and I might have a better chance of blending in in an European country or even in Chile or Argentina.  But even then my clothes, North face backpak and Chaco sandals would give me away. But even if you dressed me out of a native limeños closet I would still stand out. You can play spot the tourist very easily and it isn't just the clothes and the complexion that give the tourist away. It's the way we move. As we walk down the street we look as though we are trying to soak up the atmosphere and our surroundings or as if we trying to figure something out or find somewhere. Yesterday imagined myself blending as I walked down the street. I tried to walk with purpose and not look lost, but really I was keeping my eyes peeled for the bus station my couch surfing host had directed me to while not getting hit by the traffic patterns that I didn´t understand while staring at all of the signs in Spanish. I truly gave up on any hope of blending in when, a few hours later, a guy stopped me on the street and asked "Are you America? I could totally tell."

Thus far I like this country. The people are very nice. I'm adjusting to having nearly every man who talks to me hit on me to one degree or another, though they haven't been aggressive or over the top about it. It's almost sweet and flattering. Almost. The weather is warm and humid. I got a little sunburned. Damn Oregon skin. I spent most of my first day in Peru wandering around the historic center of downtown Lima. The city is a mass of colonial buildings, people, and traffic. There do not seem to be enough traffic lights for the number of intersections and vehicles the city accommodates. There are traffic lights and crosswalk signals in some places, but they seem to be ignored only a little bit less than they are obeyed. The crosswalk signals confused me at first because they count down to how much longer you need to wait to cross as well as counting down how much time you have until the signal turns red again. Cars crowd into intersections and crosswalks when they have green lights. If the cars get stopped for more than 2 seconds pedestrians take advantage and cross on a red. If a pedestrian is in the crosswalk when the traffic in front of a car starts moving the cars start honking. They LOVE to use their car horns here. Taxis honk to see if you want a ride, cars honk when they go through an intersection to alert others cars. They honk just for fun.

I walked down a pedestrian thoroughfare crowded with shops. In addition to a plethora of electronic and clothing shops there was a Dunkin Donuts, Payless Shoesource, KFC and, of course, McDonalds. It still surprises to see so many American shops outside of the USA. The thoroughfare led to Plaza de Las Armas, which is the main square with the cathedral and presidential palace. When I arrived there was a policeman on every corner keeping people out of the center of the square and throngs of people lining the edges. Turns out there was a rally car show about to happen. The cars were boring, but the spectacle was fun to see. I then went to the San Francisco Monastery and Catacombs, which were beautiful and eery. Afterwards a Peruvian who had lived in Seattle for 2 years be-friended me. We went and ate Chinese food in the tiny Barrio Chino (I saw not a single Chinese person, but the dim-sum was delicious) and then went and got pisco and played spot the tourist from a balcony. Ask a Peruvian and they will say that Pisco is a national Peruvian beverage. Ask a Chilean and they will say that the Peruvian is full of it and pisco is clearly Chilean. I really like the peruvian variety, I´ll compare it to the Chilean stuff later on. My new Peruvian friend was HILARIOUS. He spoke excellent English and kept surprising me when phrases and slang. He taught me some peruvian slang and then we discovered that we both spoke Italian. After a few minutes of speaking Italian he informed me that I didn´t speak English and broke into a pretty decent English accent. I almost fell off my chair.

This morning I went to an arqueological site in Lima and then took a long bus ride south to Huacachina, a little oasis town surrounded by sand dunes. Tomorrow, sand boarding. Now, showering off the sand from hiking up the dunes earlier.

Impending Departure

Tomorrow I will fly to San Francisco. Monday I fly to Lima, Peru. My trip is very unplanned and up in the air. Actually my entire life feels pretty unplanned and up in the air right now. 6 months ago I was in a long-term relationship. I lived in a cute apartment with my cute girlfriend and our equally cute cat. I was working anywhere from 2 to 3 jobs depending on the week and how you looked at it. Now I have no cute apartment, no cute girlfriend, an estranged cute cat who isn't truly my cute cat anymore, and no job, really. When most of these changes took place something in my gut said "Go to South America." So I'm doing the only logical thing a girl can do. I'm going to South America.


South America is a very large place and when you buy a plane ticket with arrival and departure dates that span five months the possibilities are close to endless. My ideas for the shape of this trip have morphed and changed a number of times in the two months since I started to think about it and even in the weeks since I booked my flight. In fact my ideas changed a few minutes ago. I would tell you all of these different plans and why they keep changing but that would be a waste of time because (1) they have never been very concrete or set and (2) they will probably change again in the near future. What city I fly "home" from is even probably going to change (currently my ticket is from Guatemala City which, for those of you keeping track, is NOT in South America but, rather, is in Central America).


I don't intend for this to be a soul searching trip where I find myself. I'm not sure if I believe that travel can fulfill that sort of function for me. Living out of a suitcase for 5 months certainly isn't going to make my life any less up in the air and tetherless than it does now. I am, however, looking forward to the effects of traveling. Travel has typically renewed my faith in humanity and even given me a sense of pride in being an American that I often lack in my daily life. Saturday evening I sat in front of my computer reading an article about the shooting of Rep. Gabby Giffords and 19 others in Arizona. Tears flowed down my cheeks. The absolute tragedy and senselessness of the situation was mind-numbing. The idea that the disagreements and opposing political viewpoints in my nation could lead to such indiscriminate violence was disappointing, saddening, and horrifying. I clicked away from the article and scrolled down the homepage of the New York Times website. The next article to catch my eye was headlined "Israelis kill Palestinian, 65, in his bed." A skimming of the first paragraph informed me that Israeli soldiers had been looking for a Palestinian whom the PLO had released earlier. They "mistakenly" shot the young man's uncle and, later in the day, arrested the young man. I closed my computer. We hear stories like this everyday, stories of violence, stories of humans turning on humans, stories of our government's ineptness and infighting, stories of victims being further victimized and perpetrators getting away scot free. It makes me feel as though the world is falling in on itself. It is turning me into a cynic before my time, degrading my faith in people and the world outside of the loved ones and friends I already trust and care for.

My previous travels have always shifted that perspective. When you travel you are far more vulnerable than you are in your daily life. You don't know the basics that are second nature at home. There are the obvious differences, such as language, and the more discreet ones. How do you hail a cab in this country? Where is the bus stop? Do I leave the tip on the table? Why is the waiter ignoring me? How much should this cost? In so many ways you are suddenly like a small child or an infant relearning the little things. And the most amazing thing about traveling is that people come out of the woodwork and help you. They show you which bus you need. They go out of their way to make sure that you find the tourist office. They buy you lunch or a drink or pay for your cab ride. In travel you can rediscover the beautiful nature of humanity. In the same way that many people are focusing on the story of Gabby Giffords' intern, who ran towards the bullets rather than away, who pushed his bare hand onto her bullet wound and stayed with her all the way to the hospital, as a counter-balance to the horror of the shooting I am looking forward to having my faith in humanity restored by the kindness of the people I meet while traveling.


I am not the most dedicated of bloggers. I am not bringing a computer with me. But I will try and be diligent about updating this page to let you know what shape my trip takes, how I am doing, and to tell you some of the stories from along the road.