G and I are going to India towards the end of August. And I'm a little freaked out. Excited, but freaked. For one, I'm not even sure I'll be allowed in the country at this point. I might - just might - have sent my passport in too late. I've had months and months since the wedding to send in for a passport with my new name, and I waited til last week. And didn't think to ask for expedited service. Doh. I'm feeling like an idiot. And its not just that I have to have the passport back, but I also need to send in the passport to apply for a Visa. Suddenly, its looking like there might not be enough time before the trip to make it all happen. AND, even if I wanted to, I can't really go up to San Francisco and do the same day passport and Visa services since I don't have my passport now. So pretty much I'm at the mercy of the federal government. And we all know how confident that makes me feel.
And then of course there's the whole taking a white boy to India to meet my non-English speaking relatives. My brother offered up the opinion yesterday that he thought that I was brave but crazy, that it would pretty much be like hell. And I'll be drawing attention away from my cousin whose wedding we're going to. And maybe it'd be better to not ruin his whole wedding? Awesome, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. He pointed out that even we get stared at when we go, just cuz everyone knows we're from the US (my family lives in the boonies, so not much to do for people other than stare and gossip). Quite a cheerful dude, my brother.
At least we're a little more confident now that we'll actually make it to where my family lives. Last week we weren't even sure about that because the local flight we booked was looking kind of hokey. I was pretty excited to find a cheap flight from Madras to Trichy, where my grandparents are at. Normally, I've always had to take a train or bus over and its kind of a long ride. It was a bit odd. Everywhere I looked, the fare was about $250 round trip per person. Then I saw this for about $50. So I was already a bit dubious. But then the price jumped up to a $100, so I figured I should just book it. I went through the process of entering in all our information (including passport #s, phone #'s, what currency I wanted to pay in, etc). And then, right when we were supposed to pay, it told us to pick a payment method, but there were no options to select from! And it wouldn't let us move forward without selecting an option, so the whole thing was jacked. I waited, tried again from home. Same issue. All the contact numbers were local Indian numbers, so I was gearing myself up for an awkward conversation. G was in the middle of googling credit card issues with the airline, just to see if anything popped up. And all of a sudden, I don't know why but I wondered if changing the currency would make a difference. I hemmed and hawed over having to enter in the info AGAIN, and then finally went for it. G loved it, cuz that's the part where I get all mean and expect him to know the answer to everything and then blame him if it doesn't work. It was a great evening all around.
Anyway, I was entering info for the millionth time and G meanwhile was finding all sorts of people complaining about the website online, specifically this particular problem (the general feeling seemed to be that this airline would be out of business if there weren't so many people in India cuz their site sucked so bad -- totally agree, I don't think I mentioned that it crashed on me a bunch of times too while I was entering in our stuff, which was awesome). Anyway, turns out that changing currency from US Dollars to Indian rupee did the trick! Though our options then were: PG1 or PG2. Um, ok, I'm just going to guess that one of these is to pay by credit card. After it went through or kind of around the same time, G read that the airlines doesn't accept credit cards issued by foreign countries. So pretty much all last week we wondered if the whole thing had been a waste of time. And if everything about the trip was up in the air.
But finally, a few days later, our credit card showed the charge, so it looks like it went through. The cost of all of the drama: a whopping 94 bucks round trip for both of us combined!!
And my cousin says he'll book us a hotel room for the first couple of nights while we're in Madras, and make sure we get on and off the plane ok. So things are already looking up. Now, if only the US passport service could play ball, too . . .
Monday, July 27, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Some things money CAN buy
Bandit
14 years of checkups, vaccinations, flea meds, etc: $2000 (figuring, conservatively, on $100 per year + about 4 years of flea meds -- I'm pretty sure G wasn't giving her regular treatments before I came along)
Several major surgeries, including once when she jumped 15ft out of a window to follow G out of the apartment and at least a couple of falls from the truck: $2000 (approximately? -- I know G's brother and sister-in-law paid one also)
Incidentals - foxtail removals, dog fight drama (that all of course happened on weekends when the vet was closed so that we could pay the extra emergency costs): $600?
Rounds and rounds of tests before diagnosing her with Cushing's Disease: $500?
Continued testing and treatment now that we know she has Cushing's (including meds that cost $100/month and an every-so-often test that runs $300 a pop): $1500
Schlepping around to/from Santa Cruz to see her specialist: who the heck knows, definitely lots of time and gas $
The most recent vet bill from Wednesday (for an extremely gross skin infection and possibly a bladder infection, which apparently Cushing's dogs are prone to): $432
This lovely cone, compliments of the vet (though NOT complimentary, I realized, when I saw the bill), to keep her from chewing her fur off (as she already has done all over her butt): $24
Mia
Two rounds of stem cell treatment for her hip: $4000
Need I say more? Figure in some of the same costs as above for 4 years of ownership (minus the foxtails, but possibly a few more stitiches), several x-rays for the hips, and schlepping to/from Santa Cruz to a DIFFERENT specialist, and she's already probably surpassed Bandit (though Bandit's recent expenses are adding up) with plenty of good years left in her to take us to the poor house.
Our only consolation seems to be Tucker, who gets the short end of the stick:
Adoption fee from the shelter: $30
General costs ownership for 4 years: $400 (using same #'s as above, though I think he's somehow been cheaper than this)
Stitches: None, he does all the biting
Foxtails: None, we wait for him to sneeze them out (though he did get some drops for his ears last year when it seemed like he might have gotten one in there - so maybe $100)
Tumor removal: $200 (we first tried to pull at it with some tweezers at home, no luck)
Despite Tucker taking it for the team, the joy of pet ownership: most definitely NOT priceless. Thank god for Visa/Mastercard.
14 years of checkups, vaccinations, flea meds, etc: $2000 (figuring, conservatively, on $100 per year + about 4 years of flea meds -- I'm pretty sure G wasn't giving her regular treatments before I came along)
Several major surgeries, including once when she jumped 15ft out of a window to follow G out of the apartment and at least a couple of falls from the truck: $2000 (approximately? -- I know G's brother and sister-in-law paid one also)
Incidentals - foxtail removals, dog fight drama (that all of course happened on weekends when the vet was closed so that we could pay the extra emergency costs): $600?
Rounds and rounds of tests before diagnosing her with Cushing's Disease: $500?
Continued testing and treatment now that we know she has Cushing's (including meds that cost $100/month and an every-so-often test that runs $300 a pop): $1500
Schlepping around to/from Santa Cruz to see her specialist: who the heck knows, definitely lots of time and gas $
The most recent vet bill from Wednesday (for an extremely gross skin infection and possibly a bladder infection, which apparently Cushing's dogs are prone to): $432
This lovely cone, compliments of the vet (though NOT complimentary, I realized, when I saw the bill), to keep her from chewing her fur off (as she already has done all over her butt): $24
Mia
Two rounds of stem cell treatment for her hip: $4000
Need I say more? Figure in some of the same costs as above for 4 years of ownership (minus the foxtails, but possibly a few more stitiches), several x-rays for the hips, and schlepping to/from Santa Cruz to a DIFFERENT specialist, and she's already probably surpassed Bandit (though Bandit's recent expenses are adding up) with plenty of good years left in her to take us to the poor house.
Our only consolation seems to be Tucker, who gets the short end of the stick:
Adoption fee from the shelter: $30
General costs ownership for 4 years: $400 (using same #'s as above, though I think he's somehow been cheaper than this)
Stitches: None, he does all the biting
Foxtails: None, we wait for him to sneeze them out (though he did get some drops for his ears last year when it seemed like he might have gotten one in there - so maybe $100)
Tumor removal: $200 (we first tried to pull at it with some tweezers at home, no luck)
Despite Tucker taking it for the team, the joy of pet ownership: most definitely NOT priceless. Thank god for Visa/Mastercard.
Good enough for government work
I've been at the new job for just about 2 months now and very quickly discovering the definite negatives of working for the government.
- Its government. Enough said, right?
- I have to clock in and out and pretty much account for just about all my time. This part is still a toss up -- some days I miss billing (and accounting for all my time) and some days I don't.
- My job's pretty darn boring.
- It can be SO disorganized. This made me livid last week - I am supposed to go for a 2-week training class at some point. The class is put together by the main office in Baltimore; classes are held around the county; and every new attorney across the country has to go. So some one at the main office figures out who goes when. Its mostly based on when we started, so seems pretty easy to assign people to a training class, tell them when and where it is and be done with it, right? Sure, make some travel arrangements like reserve a bunch of rooms. But seems like sitting down for a couple of days to figure out all the details should get the job done. Right? Everyone gets notice, they can make some plans and voila. Seems like the nice organized way to arrange it, right? There might be last minute hiccups, people canceling, training instructors having issues, etc. But the majority of it seems straight forward. NOT apparently for the government. First of all, they seem to give people very little notice. If any. I was tentatively signed up to go July 20 - July 31. For like a month a half! No confirmation, no final "go get your ticket" nothing. I organized my life around these dates because everyone told me that "its a pretty sure thing; they're just slow to confirm - they usually just give you about week's notice." OK, does any one else find it disturbing that the federal government is spending thousands of dollars buying last minute airline tickets for people to fly across the country on short notice? When there's a federal deficit of trillions of dollars, seems to me like any amount of thrift can only be a good thing. But no, apparently they like to keep us hanging. So I waited. G wanted to buy tix to come out to meet me during the weekend in between but we couldn't without final confirmation. I was trying to make plans see my family in the east coast but couldn't tell them anything for sure about when I was coming. I'm planning my friend's baby shower and I finally had to set a date (Aug. 8, no chance of conflicting with my potential travel dates). Well, last week rolls around, still no confirmation. During this whole time, our director has called multiple times to check on the status only to get a "nope, not confirmed yet." Well, finally, last week, my boss called again, and was told that actually, I had never been on that list at all. Um, then where did we get those dates from, you f'in moron? I didn't make them up. Why tell me I'm "on the list" for those dates, if its not true. AND to make matters worse, they said that they had actually wanted me to go July 6 - 17, but since I couldn't, I had been bumped to the bottom of the list. THAT made me madder, since no one had told me I was on the July 6 list. And actually, my director and I had a conversation about that date specifically cuz my friend's wedding was that Sun night before, and it would have been tough to be in the east coast by 8 am the following morning. It had actually been a source of quite a bit of stress for me for a while, but we decided there was no point worrying about it in the abstract. And since HE would have been the first one told about my training dates, I figured I was good. So, no word to him or me, but some how they had decided I was going on 6th and since I couldn't (which I guess they assumed I couldn't without asking), I was bumped. That was the story. Though I still have no idea where they got it from. Seeing as they threw out the July 20th themselves. And then why not mention during one of the 5 times my director called that actually, I wasn't on the July 20th dates at all. He asked them if I was confirmed for the 20th. Sounds to me like it was a definite no all along. How hard would it have been to communicate that? My NEW training dates (for which I am of course not yet confirmed) are for Aug. 3 - 17th, but I can't go since I have my friend's baby shower on the 8th. I plan on telling them that just a few days before.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
And finally, the bug bite . . . (Part who-the-heck-knows-but-definitely-last)
So after coming back from South America, I had about 3 days of chilling with friends and packing before I took off for 10 weeks or so to India (I was laid off, nothing better to do, so figured why not?). It was during this second trip that I fully realized all of the gifts South America had to offer, well, at least to me. Seems like I was due for one last parting memory. During my few days at home, I went to see my doctor because I had this bug bite on my upper right arm that didn't seem to be going away. She took one look at it and said there was no way that could have been a mosquito. Asked if maybe I had come across any spiders possibly. And the thing is, I don't think she realized how hard it was to keep track of the bugs in the jungle. I had done this jungle tour for 7 days, and seriously, throughout this time, there wasn't a moment when I wasn't being swarmed by an army of everything known to man. This one couple had actually bailed on the tour on the first day because they couldn't take it. Sure, I wore bug spray, and sure we slept under a mosquito net. But there was no possible way I could have really kept track of what I was being bitten by. So anyway, the doc gave me some antibiotics and cream. She would have liked to have seen me a week later, and was pretty concerned when I told her I'd be gone already.
Feb. 15, 2003
I did, though, get to experience the Indian medical system first hand today. That was exciting. Some of you might remember the insect bite on my arm? If I saw you after my South American trip, I'm sure I showed you. Especially if we happened to share a meal. Nothing like pulling a pus infected arm during dinner, eh? Well, it had seemed like it was getting better. Very, very slowly but still. I guess it wasn't though. Because yesterday, it started stinging and bleeding all over again. My mom swore she saw something crawling in and out of it, too. Maybe pus, she said, oozing out but then going back in for some reason. And then, displaying a sadistic tendency I hadn't realized she had, hoped they wouldn't start sawing on it without anesthetics.
The doctor at first didn't seem inclined to (use any anesthetics, I mean). He said it'd just take a minute. He'd just start slicing. There was already a hole there, after all. He'd just have to pull at it and make it bigger. But then he saw my face and suggested that maybe a local might work. I was a little freaked out when I walked into the operating room. The sheets were kind of dirty and the roomed smelled like urine. But the nurse when I asked assured me they used fresh needles and blades, so that helped a little. And really, they didn't give me much time to think about it. Basically, I went in. The doc looked at it. Said he'd have to cut it and did. My mom went back to her normal self as soon as we walked into the hospital room and started clutching my hand and moaning as if I were undergoing a life and death procedure of some sort. My aunt came with us and she's even worse. She told me to pray under my breath the whole time. Really, you'd have thought I was dying if you had walked into this room. To make matters worse, my mom refused to leave when the nurses asked her to. My aunt did but then kept trying to open the door and peer in the whole time. I couldn't really see what was going on because it's on the underside of my arm but my mom says he was hacking and poking into it quite a bit.
And then suddenly he pulls out something. And I couldn't tell you what it was. Some bug though. Maybe larvae. I think that's what my mom saw crawling in and out. My guess is that something bit me and laid an egg or something in my arm. And it's been growing ever since. And the reason it hurt only sometimes was because it was only moving around part of the time. Anyway, I'm sure y'all wanted to know the gory details, so there they are. :) They sent it off to the labs for testing so maybe they'll figure out what it is but I doubt it. I wanted to keep it as a souvenir but they said they wouldn't give it back. Ah well.
So the story didn't really end there. It was a long drawn out summer of visits to doctors in various Indian cities. At some point, they went back in to make sure they got everything and a part of the bug wasn't still left inside. I had this big lump in my arm after they cut it up which made them wonder if there was more. The second cut was bigger, so I got stitches. And now, I have this big ugly scar on my arm to show off at dinner parties.
Weeks later, after I sent this email to my friends, my friend Rob sent me a link to some information about the bot fly, which is what it seems I had. The botfly uses a host (usually mosquitoes which I'm sure they have no problem finding in the jungle) to take their eggs and deposit them in various places, including my skin, apparently. The little eggs burrow into the skin and hatch. The larvae grows inside and slowly worms its way out of the body. Finally when its fully grown, it burrows out, leaving a huge hole behind. I imagine that as painful as my arm was, it would have been a 100x more so if they hadn't taken it out. It didn't look like it was anywhere close to full size yet. Apparently the easier, less painful way to take it out is to put some vaseline in the area and wait with some tweezers for the bug to poke its head out. My mom did say she saw it oozing in and out. But really, then I would have missed out on my Indian hospital tour.
Feb. 15, 2003
I did, though, get to experience the Indian medical system first hand today. That was exciting. Some of you might remember the insect bite on my arm? If I saw you after my South American trip, I'm sure I showed you. Especially if we happened to share a meal. Nothing like pulling a pus infected arm during dinner, eh? Well, it had seemed like it was getting better. Very, very slowly but still. I guess it wasn't though. Because yesterday, it started stinging and bleeding all over again. My mom swore she saw something crawling in and out of it, too. Maybe pus, she said, oozing out but then going back in for some reason. And then, displaying a sadistic tendency I hadn't realized she had, hoped they wouldn't start sawing on it without anesthetics.
The doctor at first didn't seem inclined to (use any anesthetics, I mean). He said it'd just take a minute. He'd just start slicing. There was already a hole there, after all. He'd just have to pull at it and make it bigger. But then he saw my face and suggested that maybe a local might work. I was a little freaked out when I walked into the operating room. The sheets were kind of dirty and the roomed smelled like urine. But the nurse when I asked assured me they used fresh needles and blades, so that helped a little. And really, they didn't give me much time to think about it. Basically, I went in. The doc looked at it. Said he'd have to cut it and did. My mom went back to her normal self as soon as we walked into the hospital room and started clutching my hand and moaning as if I were undergoing a life and death procedure of some sort. My aunt came with us and she's even worse. She told me to pray under my breath the whole time. Really, you'd have thought I was dying if you had walked into this room. To make matters worse, my mom refused to leave when the nurses asked her to. My aunt did but then kept trying to open the door and peer in the whole time. I couldn't really see what was going on because it's on the underside of my arm but my mom says he was hacking and poking into it quite a bit.
And then suddenly he pulls out something. And I couldn't tell you what it was. Some bug though. Maybe larvae. I think that's what my mom saw crawling in and out. My guess is that something bit me and laid an egg or something in my arm. And it's been growing ever since. And the reason it hurt only sometimes was because it was only moving around part of the time. Anyway, I'm sure y'all wanted to know the gory details, so there they are. :) They sent it off to the labs for testing so maybe they'll figure out what it is but I doubt it. I wanted to keep it as a souvenir but they said they wouldn't give it back. Ah well.
So the story didn't really end there. It was a long drawn out summer of visits to doctors in various Indian cities. At some point, they went back in to make sure they got everything and a part of the bug wasn't still left inside. I had this big lump in my arm after they cut it up which made them wonder if there was more. The second cut was bigger, so I got stitches. And now, I have this big ugly scar on my arm to show off at dinner parties.
Weeks later, after I sent this email to my friends, my friend Rob sent me a link to some information about the bot fly, which is what it seems I had. The botfly uses a host (usually mosquitoes which I'm sure they have no problem finding in the jungle) to take their eggs and deposit them in various places, including my skin, apparently. The little eggs burrow into the skin and hatch. The larvae grows inside and slowly worms its way out of the body. Finally when its fully grown, it burrows out, leaving a huge hole behind. I imagine that as painful as my arm was, it would have been a 100x more so if they hadn't taken it out. It didn't look like it was anywhere close to full size yet. Apparently the easier, less painful way to take it out is to put some vaseline in the area and wait with some tweezers for the bug to poke its head out. My mom did say she saw it oozing in and out. But really, then I would have missed out on my Indian hospital tour.
Monday, July 20, 2009
The trip in a nutshell -- the best and the worst
Jan. 20, 2003
On my last day in La Paz, I almost got pissed on, thrown up on, and stolen from. I rounded a corner and there was this guy standing right there in the middle of the sidewalk, peeing. I had to jump to avoid him. A few hours later, a man stumbled past me and threw up a few feet away. And soon after that, a girl came right up to me and tried to grab my bag. I had to shove her away. What, they don't teach thieves stealth anymore? I think about these events going another way and am super glad they didn't. It would have been a messy, unhappy day.
I loved meal times at La Paz. They always consisted of me walking through the outdoor market stalls trying anything and everything. And finishing off with a couple of glasses freshly made fruit juice. All for under a buck.
On Isla del Sol, I was wondering around with this Argentinian guy and we got lost. Who would have thought we could have gotten lost on an island only 15 km long and 2 or 3 km wide? But we managed it. We walked past our hotel and lost the trail. Before we knew it, we had reached the water at the other end of the island. Believe it or not, this actually falls under the best of category. It was so exciting. It got darker and darker and started pouring rain. By the end, we were clutching each other's hands to save our other flashlight. We were fully expecting to have to wander around all night. We inherited a dog along the way and the later it got, the closer to my leg it hovered. I thought at first that it was going to show us the way back. But it was a stupid dog. If we had walked into the water, it would have followed us. I was only truly nervous once though. At some point, we ran into a big cross. And for some reason I expected a dead person to jump out any minute. The dog started to growl. We found out later that it was the site they used for their llama sacrafices. So maybe it would have just been a dead llama jumping out at us. Eventually, we found our way back. And heard that the power had gone out on the island. That's why we had missed our hotel in the first place. We had been looking for the light and there had been none. Some nice women put us back on the right path (after several other well-meaning people put us on the wrong track).
The bus ride out to Cuzco is still my all time worst. It's the only one, after all, that involved vomit. But the ride out to Colca Canyon in southern Peru comes pretty damn close. It's 6 hrs of hell on a completely unpaved road. So you bounce along on gravel the whole way out. What's worse is that it leaves at 1:30 in the morning. At one point, we started sliding backwards because the bus couldn't make it up the mountain. That was freaky.
Colca Canyon itself however is beautiful. It's neck and neck for the world's deepest canyon contest (might be 100m less deep than the nearby Cotahuasi canyon). After climbing to the top of mountains, it seemed only fitting to go down. I'd have to say that one of the best mornings of my life might be the day we climbed out of the canyon (yesterday). We had to leave at 4 in the morning. It was raining. And dark. The trail is filled with loose rock. But it's so worth it. We had reached the top by 7. It was a beautiful morning. At some point, the sun started to come out. And a rainbow crossed the canyon. I saw a couple of huge condors (this place is known for them) flying really close overhead. I really felt like I could go back down and climb it all over again. My travel companion was this super awesome girl I met earlier in the week and ran into again after leaving the jungle. By the time you run into some one twice, we decided it was a sign that we should hang together for a while. We hired a guide to take us into the canyon, and hiked in there for 3 days. We fished along the bottom of the canyon and each night, we stayed in huts that were built for just this purpose, simple but step above tent camping in Machu Pichu. Crazy too, on the way down, we found an adorable puppy that had some how made it half way down a canyon with 2 broken legs!! We spent a part of the first night at the camp trying to splinter the puppy's legs, and I hope the guides kept an eye on the poor little sucker after.
My ankle is still the size of a baseball. I sprained it in the jungle and have been treating it like shit, so it looks like shit. Hopefully having a couple of days at home where I'm not hiking on uneven ground will help. My other ankle actually looks like crap, too. Swollen from bug bites. I don't think I've ever missed home so much as on my 3rd day in the jungle. Don't know why that day really. But all of a sudden, I was tired of the bugs and the heat and everything.
And god, the bug bites -- I'm covered in them. Its been a few days since I left the jungle now, and they seem to be healing. Except for this weird one on my upper right arm that seems to be almost getting worse. I guess I should get some better bug cream when I get home.
You know, I think I've had enough bus rides to last my entire life. The 16-hr one to Lima last night wasn't great either. Maybe because it closely followed the 6-hr hellish one back from Colca Canyon.
For each meal during our Machu Picchu trek, we always came into camp to be met with a bowl of hot soup. Suddenly, I was the biggest soup fan ever. You don't know how wonderful it tastes after a long day of trekking.
When I first came to La Paz on the bus, it didn't seem like anything special. As dirty as any other city. But that's actually not La Paz at all. It's inside a canyon, so the sides drop and all of a sudden, there's La Paz proper, all along the sides of the canyon. It's amazing. The mountains in the background. The first day there, I went walking. And all of a sudden ran into a bridge that we hadn't even known was there. It crossed the two sides. And the view below was awesome.
After coming back from Isla del Sol, I stayed in a nice hotel with GAS showers. So I had hot water for the first time in days. All the showers here are electric. In Isla del Sol, where the power kept going out, that meant no hot showers too. That first shower after coming back. . . omigosh.
Well, that's it for now, I have just a few days back in Lima before heading back home for a few days, then off to India for 2 months.
On my last day in La Paz, I almost got pissed on, thrown up on, and stolen from. I rounded a corner and there was this guy standing right there in the middle of the sidewalk, peeing. I had to jump to avoid him. A few hours later, a man stumbled past me and threw up a few feet away. And soon after that, a girl came right up to me and tried to grab my bag. I had to shove her away. What, they don't teach thieves stealth anymore? I think about these events going another way and am super glad they didn't. It would have been a messy, unhappy day.
I loved meal times at La Paz. They always consisted of me walking through the outdoor market stalls trying anything and everything. And finishing off with a couple of glasses freshly made fruit juice. All for under a buck.
On Isla del Sol, I was wondering around with this Argentinian guy and we got lost. Who would have thought we could have gotten lost on an island only 15 km long and 2 or 3 km wide? But we managed it. We walked past our hotel and lost the trail. Before we knew it, we had reached the water at the other end of the island. Believe it or not, this actually falls under the best of category. It was so exciting. It got darker and darker and started pouring rain. By the end, we were clutching each other's hands to save our other flashlight. We were fully expecting to have to wander around all night. We inherited a dog along the way and the later it got, the closer to my leg it hovered. I thought at first that it was going to show us the way back. But it was a stupid dog. If we had walked into the water, it would have followed us. I was only truly nervous once though. At some point, we ran into a big cross. And for some reason I expected a dead person to jump out any minute. The dog started to growl. We found out later that it was the site they used for their llama sacrafices. So maybe it would have just been a dead llama jumping out at us. Eventually, we found our way back. And heard that the power had gone out on the island. That's why we had missed our hotel in the first place. We had been looking for the light and there had been none. Some nice women put us back on the right path (after several other well-meaning people put us on the wrong track).
The bus ride out to Cuzco is still my all time worst. It's the only one, after all, that involved vomit. But the ride out to Colca Canyon in southern Peru comes pretty damn close. It's 6 hrs of hell on a completely unpaved road. So you bounce along on gravel the whole way out. What's worse is that it leaves at 1:30 in the morning. At one point, we started sliding backwards because the bus couldn't make it up the mountain. That was freaky.
Colca Canyon itself however is beautiful. It's neck and neck for the world's deepest canyon contest (might be 100m less deep than the nearby Cotahuasi canyon). After climbing to the top of mountains, it seemed only fitting to go down. I'd have to say that one of the best mornings of my life might be the day we climbed out of the canyon (yesterday). We had to leave at 4 in the morning. It was raining. And dark. The trail is filled with loose rock. But it's so worth it. We had reached the top by 7. It was a beautiful morning. At some point, the sun started to come out. And a rainbow crossed the canyon. I saw a couple of huge condors (this place is known for them) flying really close overhead. I really felt like I could go back down and climb it all over again. My travel companion was this super awesome girl I met earlier in the week and ran into again after leaving the jungle. By the time you run into some one twice, we decided it was a sign that we should hang together for a while. We hired a guide to take us into the canyon, and hiked in there for 3 days. We fished along the bottom of the canyon and each night, we stayed in huts that were built for just this purpose, simple but step above tent camping in Machu Pichu. Crazy too, on the way down, we found an adorable puppy that had some how made it half way down a canyon with 2 broken legs!! We spent a part of the first night at the camp trying to splinter the puppy's legs, and I hope the guides kept an eye on the poor little sucker after.
My ankle is still the size of a baseball. I sprained it in the jungle and have been treating it like shit, so it looks like shit. Hopefully having a couple of days at home where I'm not hiking on uneven ground will help. My other ankle actually looks like crap, too. Swollen from bug bites. I don't think I've ever missed home so much as on my 3rd day in the jungle. Don't know why that day really. But all of a sudden, I was tired of the bugs and the heat and everything.
And god, the bug bites -- I'm covered in them. Its been a few days since I left the jungle now, and they seem to be healing. Except for this weird one on my upper right arm that seems to be almost getting worse. I guess I should get some better bug cream when I get home.
You know, I think I've had enough bus rides to last my entire life. The 16-hr one to Lima last night wasn't great either. Maybe because it closely followed the 6-hr hellish one back from Colca Canyon.
For each meal during our Machu Picchu trek, we always came into camp to be met with a bowl of hot soup. Suddenly, I was the biggest soup fan ever. You don't know how wonderful it tastes after a long day of trekking.
When I first came to La Paz on the bus, it didn't seem like anything special. As dirty as any other city. But that's actually not La Paz at all. It's inside a canyon, so the sides drop and all of a sudden, there's La Paz proper, all along the sides of the canyon. It's amazing. The mountains in the background. The first day there, I went walking. And all of a sudden ran into a bridge that we hadn't even known was there. It crossed the two sides. And the view below was awesome.
After coming back from Isla del Sol, I stayed in a nice hotel with GAS showers. So I had hot water for the first time in days. All the showers here are electric. In Isla del Sol, where the power kept going out, that meant no hot showers too. That first shower after coming back. . . omigosh.
Well, that's it for now, I have just a few days back in Lima before heading back home for a few days, then off to India for 2 months.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
missing the boat (um, part III?)
Jan. 9, 2003
Quite literally, it turns out. Or was it my bus? I'm not quite sure what happened. But I need to preface the story by saying that several times during my trip, I've been on a bus and been kicked out, sometimes for hours, along with everyone else. I'd grab all my stuff and sit there like a dope, looking around to see if anyone else knew what was going on. We'd wait around for a while and then when the driver seemed to feel like it, the bus would return and we would all get back on and resume the trip. On the same bus, too, so man, it was a great thing I grabbed my luggage only to be able to throw it back on the bus. I'm sure these were all legitimate layovers, but since I don't speak much Spanish, it always caught me off guard to have to leave.
Anyway, having said that. . . coming from Lake Tititaca on the Bolivia/Peru border to La Paz in Bolivia, I was riding a minibus. Basically, a van with lots of people crowded into it. And a little girl next to me leaning over every two seconds to toss candy out to any kids we happened to see along the side of the road. It was great, I highly recommend this form of public transportation to one and all, particularly if you're generally prone to motion sickness. At some point, we happened to stop along the water. And once again, we were all asked to leave. Tired of this game, I stepped out, no luggage this time and wondered how long we'd have to wait this time.
OK, I gotta also add that I was pretty hungry by this point. It hadn't been a long trip but I had missed breakfast. And remember that I'd been staring at candy for most of the way too. So I saw food along the side of the road and was momentarily distracted. And then I happened to run into my friend Mike who i had been traveling with the first week of my trip. Dude, the travel circuits are crazy sometimes. I don't know how many times I've run into the same people over and over again. So anyway, what with one thing and another, I didn't notice everyone on my bus getting into a boat. Well, I guess I did see my bus get onto a boat but figured it was just a nice outing maybe for the driver. All the other buses and cars seemed to be doing it, too. So i sat down to wait. And wait. And wait.
Finally, it hits me (about an hour later - ok, I'm totally slow sometimes, don't mock me) that my bus might not be returning. And no one from my bus was anywhere in sight. At that point, i got suspicious. And consulted my handy dandy travel guide that I should read more closely earlier. Guess what? The driver wasn't getting some fresh air during his break. We were all supposed to cross the lake along with him. On a different boat. And meet him on the other side. where we would then continue the trip. I don't know why there's a separate boat for the passengers and the bus itself, but that's the way they do it. Of course, by the time I made my way across the river, my bus was long gone.
It was ok, though. This way, I got to pay my fare a second time to ride a different bus. One that smelled of fish and had even more people in it than the first. And briefly got to meet some German guys who gave me their bag of chips. AND I got to wander through the bus station in La Paz looking for my bag that had still been on top of the first bus. It all took a little longer than planned but I eventually did get my stuff back. And got to know the bus station well in the process. I don't know if I would really call it a station though so much as an area of about a square mile or seven where buses seem to congregate, pretty much non-distinguishable from the areas where the buses didn't congregate. Basically, the system seemed to be, lets all pick a spot to just hang out and wait for passengers, but just to confuse, you go around the corner, I'll wait a mile down the road, and lets just make sure there are no other buses nearby so as to not suggest anything remotely like a bus stand.
And wait, there's more. The last few days have been a total comedy of errors. I don't think I told you guys about Daniel. . . I should have taken bets on whether he'd show or not. Those of you who have heard me talk about him will be happy to know that he continues to entertain. (If you haven't, its probably enough for now to mention that this is the same friend who didn't show up to meet me in Istanbul on a previous trip. I had pretty much vowed to never count on him again for anything, and was only vaguely expecting him to actually show up in South America, but he kept wanting to come, so I figured it didn't hurt to tell him fine, I suppose).
Anyway, we had a plan to meet at Copacabana in Lake Titicaca. He was flying into La Paz at 7 in the morning. It seemed silly for me to go all the way down there to see him. And honestly, I didn't feel like putting myself out even a little. Which was probably for the best, it turned out. I told him to take a bus that same morning and come to Copacabana. It's only a 3.5 hr ride (assuming you know to follow the bus when it crosses the water, of course). I picked a restaurant for lunch and told him I'd be hanging around all afternoon. And then if he couldn't make that, he should come to the hotel.
So 5pm rolls around. Still no sign of him. So I went back to the hotel. Still no sign of him. I finally went to bed.
Next morning, I check email and whaddya know. I got something from his mom telling me that he got sick from the altitude and went down to a more "comfortable" height. That worried me right off the bat. There was no where nearby where the altitude was lower. You had to travel at least ten hours by bus. Even La Paz is at an elevation of 4000m.
Finally, I heard from him, too, in another day or so. And sure enough, he was in Arequipa, Peru! Ten hours away. He had come to the restaurant before I had. I guess he was feeling the altitude. And rather than waiting, he decided he was too sick to stay. And hopped back on the bus. And found himself on it for 10 hrs. I'm sorry. Who does shit like this? Rather than coming to the hotel around the corner, he took a bus and traveled for the rest of the day? Ok, apparently, he was stumbing and throwing up all over the place. And I can testify that altitude sickness is not pleasant. But really? I mean, I managed to hike for 4 days despite feeling miserable. And I wouldn't really call myself exactly tolerant of any kind of sickness.
And THEN to make matters worse, he decided that he didn't want to take the bus all the way back to Lake Titicaca. He'd rather fly, but the only flights were to La Paz, which again, can I remind you, is at an elevation of 4000m. So I don't know what difference it would have made. It turned out too that he had all sorts of issues catching a flight, but by this point, I had lost interest, so I couldn't really tell you how it all went down.
It turned out he made it after all, but I pretended not to be checking email and ignored him for a couple of day. Came to La Paz early and hung out without him for a while. And now, he has so many restrictions that I've given up on him again. I'm on in the middle of the jungle, about to start a jungle tour. For some reason he decided to come with, though he doesn't actually have time to do a tour. I don't know what he's doing and honestly, I'm not sure he does either. I think we traveled together for a total of 20 hours or so. And most of it consisted of me trying to figure out how to get here to the middle of nowhere, and him tagging along. Now that he's here and doesn't have time for a tour, he's trying to figure out how to get back out, since the flights to and from aren't all that frequent. So I hope he has a better time the rest of his trip. I think he has to be in Chile by Sat where he meets up with relatives.
The plane ride here was exciting. It was on a military plane in an unpressurized; they gave us cotton to stuff in our ears. Never checked our ID once! But we figured that since everyone on there had machine guns, they didn't have to worry about us hijacking the plane. It was either this or apparently riding a "meat plane" with dead carcasses. Since the accident rates on those things seem phenomenal, we opted for the military plane.
Note that even in a little village in the middle of the rainforest, there's an internet cafe.
Quite literally, it turns out. Or was it my bus? I'm not quite sure what happened. But I need to preface the story by saying that several times during my trip, I've been on a bus and been kicked out, sometimes for hours, along with everyone else. I'd grab all my stuff and sit there like a dope, looking around to see if anyone else knew what was going on. We'd wait around for a while and then when the driver seemed to feel like it, the bus would return and we would all get back on and resume the trip. On the same bus, too, so man, it was a great thing I grabbed my luggage only to be able to throw it back on the bus. I'm sure these were all legitimate layovers, but since I don't speak much Spanish, it always caught me off guard to have to leave.
Anyway, having said that. . . coming from Lake Tititaca on the Bolivia/Peru border to La Paz in Bolivia, I was riding a minibus. Basically, a van with lots of people crowded into it. And a little girl next to me leaning over every two seconds to toss candy out to any kids we happened to see along the side of the road. It was great, I highly recommend this form of public transportation to one and all, particularly if you're generally prone to motion sickness. At some point, we happened to stop along the water. And once again, we were all asked to leave. Tired of this game, I stepped out, no luggage this time and wondered how long we'd have to wait this time.
OK, I gotta also add that I was pretty hungry by this point. It hadn't been a long trip but I had missed breakfast. And remember that I'd been staring at candy for most of the way too. So I saw food along the side of the road and was momentarily distracted. And then I happened to run into my friend Mike who i had been traveling with the first week of my trip. Dude, the travel circuits are crazy sometimes. I don't know how many times I've run into the same people over and over again. So anyway, what with one thing and another, I didn't notice everyone on my bus getting into a boat. Well, I guess I did see my bus get onto a boat but figured it was just a nice outing maybe for the driver. All the other buses and cars seemed to be doing it, too. So i sat down to wait. And wait. And wait.
Finally, it hits me (about an hour later - ok, I'm totally slow sometimes, don't mock me) that my bus might not be returning. And no one from my bus was anywhere in sight. At that point, i got suspicious. And consulted my handy dandy travel guide that I should read more closely earlier. Guess what? The driver wasn't getting some fresh air during his break. We were all supposed to cross the lake along with him. On a different boat. And meet him on the other side. where we would then continue the trip. I don't know why there's a separate boat for the passengers and the bus itself, but that's the way they do it. Of course, by the time I made my way across the river, my bus was long gone.
It was ok, though. This way, I got to pay my fare a second time to ride a different bus. One that smelled of fish and had even more people in it than the first. And briefly got to meet some German guys who gave me their bag of chips. AND I got to wander through the bus station in La Paz looking for my bag that had still been on top of the first bus. It all took a little longer than planned but I eventually did get my stuff back. And got to know the bus station well in the process. I don't know if I would really call it a station though so much as an area of about a square mile or seven where buses seem to congregate, pretty much non-distinguishable from the areas where the buses didn't congregate. Basically, the system seemed to be, lets all pick a spot to just hang out and wait for passengers, but just to confuse, you go around the corner, I'll wait a mile down the road, and lets just make sure there are no other buses nearby so as to not suggest anything remotely like a bus stand.
And wait, there's more. The last few days have been a total comedy of errors. I don't think I told you guys about Daniel. . . I should have taken bets on whether he'd show or not. Those of you who have heard me talk about him will be happy to know that he continues to entertain. (If you haven't, its probably enough for now to mention that this is the same friend who didn't show up to meet me in Istanbul on a previous trip. I had pretty much vowed to never count on him again for anything, and was only vaguely expecting him to actually show up in South America, but he kept wanting to come, so I figured it didn't hurt to tell him fine, I suppose).
Anyway, we had a plan to meet at Copacabana in Lake Titicaca. He was flying into La Paz at 7 in the morning. It seemed silly for me to go all the way down there to see him. And honestly, I didn't feel like putting myself out even a little. Which was probably for the best, it turned out. I told him to take a bus that same morning and come to Copacabana. It's only a 3.5 hr ride (assuming you know to follow the bus when it crosses the water, of course). I picked a restaurant for lunch and told him I'd be hanging around all afternoon. And then if he couldn't make that, he should come to the hotel.
So 5pm rolls around. Still no sign of him. So I went back to the hotel. Still no sign of him. I finally went to bed.
Next morning, I check email and whaddya know. I got something from his mom telling me that he got sick from the altitude and went down to a more "comfortable" height. That worried me right off the bat. There was no where nearby where the altitude was lower. You had to travel at least ten hours by bus. Even La Paz is at an elevation of 4000m.
Finally, I heard from him, too, in another day or so. And sure enough, he was in Arequipa, Peru! Ten hours away. He had come to the restaurant before I had. I guess he was feeling the altitude. And rather than waiting, he decided he was too sick to stay. And hopped back on the bus. And found himself on it for 10 hrs. I'm sorry. Who does shit like this? Rather than coming to the hotel around the corner, he took a bus and traveled for the rest of the day? Ok, apparently, he was stumbing and throwing up all over the place. And I can testify that altitude sickness is not pleasant. But really? I mean, I managed to hike for 4 days despite feeling miserable. And I wouldn't really call myself exactly tolerant of any kind of sickness.
And THEN to make matters worse, he decided that he didn't want to take the bus all the way back to Lake Titicaca. He'd rather fly, but the only flights were to La Paz, which again, can I remind you, is at an elevation of 4000m. So I don't know what difference it would have made. It turned out too that he had all sorts of issues catching a flight, but by this point, I had lost interest, so I couldn't really tell you how it all went down.
It turned out he made it after all, but I pretended not to be checking email and ignored him for a couple of day. Came to La Paz early and hung out without him for a while. And now, he has so many restrictions that I've given up on him again. I'm on in the middle of the jungle, about to start a jungle tour. For some reason he decided to come with, though he doesn't actually have time to do a tour. I don't know what he's doing and honestly, I'm not sure he does either. I think we traveled together for a total of 20 hours or so. And most of it consisted of me trying to figure out how to get here to the middle of nowhere, and him tagging along. Now that he's here and doesn't have time for a tour, he's trying to figure out how to get back out, since the flights to and from aren't all that frequent. So I hope he has a better time the rest of his trip. I think he has to be in Chile by Sat where he meets up with relatives.
The plane ride here was exciting. It was on a military plane in an unpressurized; they gave us cotton to stuff in our ears. Never checked our ID once! But we figured that since everyone on there had machine guns, they didn't have to worry about us hijacking the plane. It was either this or apparently riding a "meat plane" with dead carcasses. Since the accident rates on those things seem phenomenal, we opted for the military plane.
Note that even in a little village in the middle of the rainforest, there's an internet cafe.
Friday, July 17, 2009
There's nothing so wonderful as . . . (part II)
If you missed the first installment to this, check it out here.
Jan. 4, 2003
. . . a friend who rubs your shoulders after you've just thrown up on his foot (while having to sit next to me in my post-vomit state on a bus for 12 more hrs - is that a true test of friendship or what? And this from some one who I'd just met less than a week ago!). FYI, general propensity for motion sickness AND high altitude climbing is a terrible combo
. . . being catapulted from the bus bathroom -- while washing the skirt involved in the above- mentioned throw up incident -- and flung out onto the aisle with your skirt in your hand (See, it could have worse, I could have actually been ON the toilet when it all went down, so here's to that)
. . . a hot bowl of soup and nice strong massage after a hard day's hike (who would have expected one of the other women in the tour group to be into shiatsu massage??!!)
. . . falling asleep by 9pm on New Year's Eve and sleeping like the dead (we figured it was at least New Year's in Sweden already so it was all the same thing -- some of the guys in our tour group were from Sweden)
. . . a big wad of cocoa leaves to chew on when you're fighting altitude sickness (I actually needed a constant wad in my mouth to keep me going). For those that aren't in the know, cocoa leaves are the precursor to cocaine. I hear that although the leaves themselves are only a mild stimulant (and great for fatigue, vomiting, and pretty much whatever ails you), apparently studies do show that a tiny amount of cocaine can be found in your blood stream just after chewing. So I can now honestly say that I've tried coke before.
. . . a few meters of flat ground when all you've been doing is climbing and climbing for days (I was at the point where even a step or two was welcome)
. . . standing on top of a 4200 m (over 16,000 ft!!) peak that you'vejust climbed and knowing that there's nowhere else to go that day but down (it ended up being a steep and scary down hill but oh well)
. . . standing of top of a 4200 m peak and knowing you climbed it (i had gone too far to go back at this point. Believe me, I considered it)
. . . standing on top of a 4200 m peak and looking back at the narrow ledge you just crossed to get there (I had to stretch this one, dudes, because in reality, I climbed this thing and then promptly headed down because it was raining and f---ing freezing)
. . . wrapped in blankets with a cup of tea at 3800 meters, gazing at the stars, trying to pool our collective constellation knowledge (at this height, it feels as if you could practically reach out and touch the sparkly things but that could have been the cocoa leaves)
. . . catching the first sight of Machu Picchu from above at sunrise and thinking that maybe hiking for 4 days and waking up at 3:45 that morning might have been worth it after all.
And all this in one week, too! It's been absolutely crazy, definitely a week of extremes. I don't know when I've been more miserable. I can barely walk. I'm covered in bug bites (despite covering myself in insect repellant every day). I have a strange infection on my toe. I've thrown up three times in the last week because I've never been at such high altitudes before, let alone hiked extensively at it. But never mind all that! It's been absolutely amazing! I'm telling you - you have to come here at least once in your lifetime. You won't want to do the trek more than once in your life. That's enough to kill you. And if I were to give you one piece of advice, its to maybe consider the porters for your gear. Yeah, you feel a little bad seeing this little guys hauling ten times their weight in gear. But now that I think of it (too late for me of course) , better them than you, right?
But the ruins were . . . I don't know what I could say that wouldn't make me sound corny. They're huge, for one thing. I got lost in them a couple of times just wandering around. Even with other tourists milling around, they're peaceful. If there are such things are spiritual places in the world, this is one of them. And to think that someone built them hundreds of years ago, it's inspiring to think about. I suppose you could appreciate it without doing the 4 day hike (you can take a train) but I don't think it's the same thing. It's nice to sweat a little for it. Or a lot, in my case. ;) Plus the hike is spectacular in it's own sense. Come on, you're surrounded by mountains and waterfalls and rivers. How could it not be?
Anyway, I'll stop now. I'm back in civilization again. In a little town called Cópocabana in Bolivia. Right near the Peruvian border. It's right next to one of the of the highest lakes (and one of South America's largest) in the world (4000 m - I'm used to the altitude now), Lake Tititaca. My friend Daniel is going to meet me here tomorrow. I got here this morning and have decided to not do much of anything all day. Just recover. Wait for the soreness in my feet to go away. I just saw the most gorgeous sunset. . . did I mention this place is up in the mountains near a large lake?
Jan. 4, 2003
. . . a friend who rubs your shoulders after you've just thrown up on his foot (while having to sit next to me in my post-vomit state on a bus for 12 more hrs - is that a true test of friendship or what? And this from some one who I'd just met less than a week ago!). FYI, general propensity for motion sickness AND high altitude climbing is a terrible combo
. . . being catapulted from the bus bathroom -- while washing the skirt involved in the above- mentioned throw up incident -- and flung out onto the aisle with your skirt in your hand (See, it could have worse, I could have actually been ON the toilet when it all went down, so here's to that)
. . . a hot bowl of soup and nice strong massage after a hard day's hike (who would have expected one of the other women in the tour group to be into shiatsu massage??!!)
. . . falling asleep by 9pm on New Year's Eve and sleeping like the dead (we figured it was at least New Year's in Sweden already so it was all the same thing -- some of the guys in our tour group were from Sweden)
. . . a big wad of cocoa leaves to chew on when you're fighting altitude sickness (I actually needed a constant wad in my mouth to keep me going). For those that aren't in the know, cocoa leaves are the precursor to cocaine. I hear that although the leaves themselves are only a mild stimulant (and great for fatigue, vomiting, and pretty much whatever ails you), apparently studies do show that a tiny amount of cocaine can be found in your blood stream just after chewing. So I can now honestly say that I've tried coke before.
. . . a few meters of flat ground when all you've been doing is climbing and climbing for days (I was at the point where even a step or two was welcome)
. . . standing on top of a 4200 m (over 16,000 ft!!) peak that you'vejust climbed and knowing that there's nowhere else to go that day but down (it ended up being a steep and scary down hill but oh well)
. . . standing of top of a 4200 m peak and knowing you climbed it (i had gone too far to go back at this point. Believe me, I considered it)
. . . standing on top of a 4200 m peak and looking back at the narrow ledge you just crossed to get there (I had to stretch this one, dudes, because in reality, I climbed this thing and then promptly headed down because it was raining and f---ing freezing)
. . . wrapped in blankets with a cup of tea at 3800 meters, gazing at the stars, trying to pool our collective constellation knowledge (at this height, it feels as if you could practically reach out and touch the sparkly things but that could have been the cocoa leaves)
. . . catching the first sight of Machu Picchu from above at sunrise and thinking that maybe hiking for 4 days and waking up at 3:45 that morning might have been worth it after all.
And all this in one week, too! It's been absolutely crazy, definitely a week of extremes. I don't know when I've been more miserable. I can barely walk. I'm covered in bug bites (despite covering myself in insect repellant every day). I have a strange infection on my toe. I've thrown up three times in the last week because I've never been at such high altitudes before, let alone hiked extensively at it. But never mind all that! It's been absolutely amazing! I'm telling you - you have to come here at least once in your lifetime. You won't want to do the trek more than once in your life. That's enough to kill you. And if I were to give you one piece of advice, its to maybe consider the porters for your gear. Yeah, you feel a little bad seeing this little guys hauling ten times their weight in gear. But now that I think of it (too late for me of course) , better them than you, right?
But the ruins were . . . I don't know what I could say that wouldn't make me sound corny. They're huge, for one thing. I got lost in them a couple of times just wandering around. Even with other tourists milling around, they're peaceful. If there are such things are spiritual places in the world, this is one of them. And to think that someone built them hundreds of years ago, it's inspiring to think about. I suppose you could appreciate it without doing the 4 day hike (you can take a train) but I don't think it's the same thing. It's nice to sweat a little for it. Or a lot, in my case. ;) Plus the hike is spectacular in it's own sense. Come on, you're surrounded by mountains and waterfalls and rivers. How could it not be?
Anyway, I'll stop now. I'm back in civilization again. In a little town called Cópocabana in Bolivia. Right near the Peruvian border. It's right next to one of the of the highest lakes (and one of South America's largest) in the world (4000 m - I'm used to the altitude now), Lake Tititaca. My friend Daniel is going to meet me here tomorrow. I got here this morning and have decided to not do much of anything all day. Just recover. Wait for the soreness in my feet to go away. I just saw the most gorgeous sunset. . . did I mention this place is up in the mountains near a large lake?
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