Trekking the Inca Trail

My last two weekends in Peru were certainly memorable. We started the first weekend a week ago Thursday, by taking Chantelle and Katrina out to dinner to celebrate the last night that our “family” of seven ladies would be together in Yoni’s house. After a delicious dinner at Green’s, an organic restaurant on the town square, Wendy (the daughter of Yoni) escorted us and ten other volunteers to a local bar. We appreciated being the only foreigners there at the beginning of the night but especially enjoyed dancing with Yoni on the stage. The DJ treated us to some old, familiar songs before returning to local Peruvian favorites – which triggered some fabulous salsa dancing. After Wendy and Yoni left, we decided to continue the evening at Uptown, a local discotec that played some great music. I was especially entertained by Chantelle’s bartending skills, and I loved dancing with the girls in my house and random other volunteers that found their way to the bar that evening.

Out in Cusco with the Ladies of Yoni's House

On Friday, Amy and I headed up to HY and were so happy to see the building re-opened with a new paved floor. The children had returned to the center and appeared happy to be back after a few days away. We were thrilled to be back as well.

After an afternoon at HY, I joined Erin and Emily for an early dinner before leaving for the bus station. We had decided to travel to Arequipa, a town 10 hours west of Cusco, for the weekend, and were off to catch our bus at 8:00 that evening. I was pleased to see that this bus was even better than the one I had taken to Puno, complete with leather recliners on the ground floor, a stewardess, meals, and “in-flight” entertainment of an American movie, dubbed in Spanish, with English subtitles. Go figure.

Although the bus seemed to have quite a few amenities, none of us slept exceptionally well, given the poor temperature control and the colds that had overtaken all of us the week prior. We arrived in Arequipa around 5:00 a.m., where we were freezing and a bit disoriented. Fortunately, a woman from the travel agency coordinating our weekend had come to meet us, and she managed to find us in the sea of other travelers. We ultimately wound up in the travel agency around 5:30 a.m., waiting for the sun to come up and for the clock to tick to 8:30. Emily wasn’t feeling so great, so Erin and I ventured out to the Plaza de Armas for a stroll and some breakfast around 7:00 a.m. Despite our lack of sleep, we had a great breakfast, with a pleasant view of the square, and arrived back at the agency in time to collect Emily and our bags for our trip.

Breakfast with Erin in the Arequipa in Plaza de Armas

At 8:30 a.m., a bus rolled up outside to take us to the Colca Canyon. The Colca Canyon is 3400M deep, second in the world only to the Cotahuasi Canyon, also located in Peru. Apparently, the Colca Canyon is two times deeper than the Grand Canyon, although I must admit that I’ve never seen that in person.

Our drive to Chivay, the town that serves as the gateway to the Colca Canyon, took us past the three large volcanoes that border Arequipa. We also drove higher and higher, up to a pass that was over 5,000M (almost as tall as the summit of Kili!). By the time we reached 4500M, the landscape had turned quite barren, with little vegetation. We drove past herds of alpacas, llamas, and vicunas, but admittedly everyone started to doze off from the altitude the further we progressed. Once through the pass, we descended quickly into the valley, where the little town of Chivay was situated.

View of Volcano, en route to Colca Canyon

Llamas and alpacas, also en route to Colca Canyon

View of Chivay from above

Most of the others on our tour appeared to be college-age Peruvian students, but we did make friends with a group of three Canadians from Whistler, BC. We were all dropped off at the same hotel and enjoyed hearing about each other’s travel stories over lunch that day in Chivay. After arriving at the hotel, I decided to head outside to soak up some sun and finish off another book, during which time I was fortunate enough to accept a call from Ben.

That afternoon, our group headed to the local hot springs for a dip. I’ve passed up hot springs in New Zealand because I couldn’t quite stomach the sulfur smell, but I was looking forward to a dip in really warm water after the past few weeks of low pressure showers and really frigid nighttime temperatures. The hot springs were actually clean pools of water on the edge of the river in Chivay, and Erin, Emily, and I celebrated an end to a good day by ordering what turned out to be really bad champagne. Afterwards, we had some warm-ish showers at our hostel and walked to the main square, where we settled on the local irish pub for dinner. From what I understand, it’s a good thing that I didn’t see the kitchen BEFORE I consumed my supper.

We woke the next morning for an early breakfast and joined our group for the drive out to the Canyon. First, we stopped in a small town known for its colonial architecture and intricately designed church. We then continued on our drive, which took us along a cliff-dropping road that peered into the deep valley below.

Stop in local town on our way to the condor siting

Two hours later, we arrived at a stop where many other tourists had stopped to view the condors. Apparently, the huge birds are only visible a few places in the world, one of which happens to be in the Colca. The condors also enjoy being spotted (or so claimed by our tour guide), and within minutes of arriving, we were rewarded with views of 8-10 birds flying through the canyon and swooping overhead. I headed off to a quiet side to enjoy the views of the dramatic mountain faces and the graceful birds in solitude. Although I’m not much of a bird-watcher, as evidenced by my experience in Manu, the sight of these majestic animals gracefully gliding through the air was awe-inspiring.

Condors in Colca Canyon

Overlooking the Colca Canyon

After the condor-siting, we headed back to Chivay, stopping for a short hike, archeology sites, and a small town church on the way. Our group had one last lunch in Chivay before boarding the bus back to Arequipa. The drive back was actually one of my favorite parts of the trips, as the landscape was so beautifully desolate and tranquil through the high passes. Every once in awhile, we’d pass a house or two, and I would wonder how such family came to live there. The sun set about two hours from Arequipa, and the sky turned various shades of pink, yellow, and orange before settling into a peaceful night sky over the city. We were ultimately dropped off at the same agency in town before heading to the bus station. After a discrepancy over exit taxes and learning we were in the wrong terminal, we finally found our bus to head back to Cusco.

Drive back to Chivay, with canyon in the background

Sunset on our drive to Arequipa

We were not-so-peacefully awakened at 5:00 a.m. upon arrival in Cusco after a difficult night of sleep. The bus temperature seemed to alternate between extremely hot and frigid cold, and I woke mid-night to find myself sweating from the poor temperature control. I was also feeling a bit down in the dumps about our wedding anniversary, which was this past Monday (as you all know from my previous post). Erin and Emily were so kind to remember, and the first thing Erin said to me when we awoke on the bus was “Happy Anniversary.” She had also clutched an Oreo packet all night in order to give me a cookie first thing to celebrate.

Although I had intended, the night before, to stay awake upon arrival in Cusco, I quickly decided at 5:30 a.m. to head straight back to bed. I was not feeling great, and only decided to venture to the school later that morning in order to tell my tandem partners that I really wasn’t up for thinking, or speaking, Spanish. I also really wanted to have a skype chat with Ben, but given our schedules, I was only able to speak with him via phone. It was certainly a difficult day for both of us to be apart, but I’m thankful that we were at least able to talk for a few minutes, despite the distance. I’m also grateful to our families and friends for the skype chats and emails that were sent that day.

I headed directly home and back to bed, to hopefully recover in time for the Inca Trail later that week. Emily and Erin joined me for a delicious dinner at my favorite local restaurant that evening, and even gifted me a beautiful silver bracelet in honor of our anniversary. You two are the best, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Thanks for helping to make the day a great one.

Dinner with Erin and Emily on June 2

On Tuesday and Wednesday, I was certainly feeling better but decided to try and take the next couple of days fairly easy. I still met my tandem partners in the mornings and spent the afternoons preparing for the Inca Trail – stocking up on clothing layers at a local market, meeting with the Inca Trail company for a briefing, and buying snacks for the trek. With Emily, Erin, and our two new housemates, Beth and Heidi, I enjoyed watching newly purchased DVDs and wrapping up my last few days in Cusco. I also said goodbye to my tandem partners, who had been so kind and friendly to help me with my Spanish over the last couple of weeks. On our last day together, we left each other with huge hugs, and they were even so kind to gift me a locally-made necklace.

Last day with my language partners

I woke on Thursday morning around 5:00 a.m. to finish packing my bag for the Inca Trail. Emily and Erin were headed out on the Lares Trek, another four day hike in the Sacred Valley, and we waved farewell with promises to see each other on Sunday morning at Machu Pichu. At 7:00 a.m., a bus pulled up in our neighborhood, and I hopped on board with my fellow trekkers, in addition to our guides and porters. I was a little apprehensive about who would be in our group, but was quickly put at ease by a friendly Canadian and two Aussies that I had started to chat with along the way.

We drove about an hour and a half to Ollentaytambo, a small town you may remember from my previous posts. There, we were able to stock up on any last minute supplies (i.e., toilet paper), buy walking sticks, and have one last meal before the hike. After Ollentaytambo, our bus drove to KM 82, which is the most popular drop off spot for the commencement of the Inca Trail.
As soon as we climbed off the bus, the porters went to work tying up and securing all of our packs and the other supplies for the next four days. A few minutes later, our guide Maria led us to the first of four check points, where we presented our passports and our tickets for the Inca Trail. The Inca Trail is the only tourist trek that ends in Machu Pichu and is reputedly the route that the priests and other important Incas used to travel to the ancient town. Machu Pichu is regarded as the Lost City of the Incas, as it was kept secret from the invading Spaniards in the 16th century. Only when Hiram Bingham, a Yale archeologist, ventured out to find another lost city in 1914, was MP rediscovered.

Prior to my briefing in Cusco, I had learned that I was quite lucky to have obtained a permit to hike the Inca Trail. A few years ago, the Peruvian government (thankfully) established permit limitations, allowing only 500 people a day (including guides and porters) to hike. I applied for my permit on February 25, and the earliest date still available was June 5. I understand from others that the entire summer permits were sold out by mid-March. The hike is clearly quite popular.

Porters preparing to leave from KM 82

Starting out on the trek

Porters trekking on the Inca Trail

After a couple of hours of hiking, we stopped at a river-side spot for lunch, which the cook had quickly prepared. By lunchtime, I had determined that I was part of a great group of trekkers. Our guide seemed phenomenal , as she was well-versed in Inca history and could speak English very well; the porters were outstanding, passing us with their laden packs and working quickly to set up the lunch tent; and my fellow trekkers were quite friendly and welcoming. In addition to the twelve porters and three guides, our group consisted of: Kylie and Kay, jovial Aussies on a seven week trip around South America; Shazeen and Taha, Canadian siblings on a two month trip around South America with their friend Keira; Bob and Kristi, a Lithuanian and Estonian, respectively, living in London but taking a two week vacation in Peru; Frigerd and Soffia, two Danish girls who previously worked on the overnight ferry from Denmark to Norway; and Annabel and Steve, a British couple who recently left their jobs to travel around the world for the next year.

First meal together on the Inca Trail

After lunch, we hiked another couple of hours to our camp site, and I have to admit that I was loving every second. It was so nice to be outside, in a stunning valley setting, listening to the river and watching snow-capped mountains appear slowly in the distance. Every once in a while, we would stop to let locals pass us with their donkeys or horses, and we took a few minutes to memorize the sign marking the altitude of the entire Inca Trail. We arrived in camp around 5:00, took a few minutes to organize our tents, and met back under a shelter for tea at 5:30 p.m. After some hot chocolate and a popcorn snack, we had a delicious dinner in the same shelter and emerged around 8:30 p.m. to a sky shimmering with stars. We headed to our tents early after a treacherous walk down to the bathroom hut, and I’m glad I remembered the hot-water-in the-water-bottle trick from Kili to keep my toes warm in my sleeping bag.

Moving aside for a Local (and her horse) to pass

Checking out the altitude on the trail

We were awakened at 5:30 a.m. to the sound of “Buenos Dias, Coca Tea??” and warm cups of mate being served to us in our tents. It was pretty chilly in the mountains, but I warmed up quickly by packing up my things and having a great omelet breakfast prepared by our cook. We were all anxious to start out on our hike for the day, as it was to be the most strenuous of the entire trip. We were basically going to be walking uphill for the next six hours until we arrived at Dead Woman’s Pass, elevation 4200M.

Day 1 Camp

Our Inca Trail group - trekkers, guides, and porters

After breakfast, the uphill portion started immediately. The first two hours went through a forest, and the temperature was perfect for walking. By the time we reached the second rest point, four hours into our hike, I was starting to get fairly tired. The walk was primarily up huge Incan stone steps with hardly any downhill relief. But, after the second stop, the real challenge started – a two hour ascent up a steep slope to the top of the Pass. I was walking with Shazeen for most of the time and could hear yelps of excitement from others ahead of us as they summitted the pass. Around noon, we finally arrived at the famous marker and were rewarded with outstanding views of the valley below us on two sides. What a rush to cross that last step and to receive hugs of congratulations from others in our group. Because we had worked so hard to get to the top, we rested at least an hour there, soaking up the sun and waiting for the rest of our group to make it. On one side, it was possible to look back into the valley from where we had come, with a looming snow-capped mountain above it. On the other, you could see our quick descent to camp that evening, ringed by untouched Andean mountains. A new favorite place for me.

Trekking on Day 2....

And getting my tail kicked up hill by the porters!

The last stretch up to Dead Woman's Pass (look for the little people at the top)

Looking back down on the trail at the top of the pass

Offerings to Pachamama, looking on the descent trail below

Our group at the top of the Pass

Although I’ve definitely gotten some good hiking experience in on the trip, my skills at walking downhill need some work. My short legs don’t help matters, and I’m very tentative about descending quickly for fear of falling (which I do quite often). So, as much as the two hour downhill walk sounded like a nice treat after climbing the pass, I found that it wasn’t quite as much fun as I hoped. I arrived in camp some hours later and was so thrilled to take off my boots. Our campsite was perched on the edge of one of the mountains, with an amazing vista of the Andeans all around. I loved throwing my feet outside the tent, lying back to take in the view after a great day of climbing.

Our group had an enjoyable, restful afternoon, a fun tea time reflecting on the day’s accomplishments, and another outstanding meal from our cook. Because this camp was the highest elevation of all of the camps (3600M), we were all nervous about the cold setting in. Some of the others used my hot-water-bottle trick as well, as we settled into our tents early in an attempt to fall asleep before the temperatures dropped too dramatically.

Camp, Day 2

I remember waking up in the middle of the night to hear a fellow camper mumble “brrr.” It was freezing! But I still managed to get a decent night’s sleep, and woke up at 5:30 a.m. to another welcome cup of warm coca tea. We had a quick breakfast and set off by 7:00 a.m. on our third, and longest, day of the trek. The first two hours included a climb up another pass, stopping en route at an Incan architectural site used by messengers. By 9:00 a.m., we had ascended to the top of the second pass, which had more rewarding views of the valley below. We also left piles of stones at the pass as an offering to Pachamama, the Inca God to whom prayers are whispered all along the trail.

Breakfast, Day 3 - a cake baked on the mountain!

Inca Ruins on our way to pass#2

Offerings to Pachamama

The trail took us onward to another outstanding Inca ruin site that was used as a marketplace between the first ruins on the trail (that we passed day 1), and ruins further downhill in the jungle. Although I had seen a lot of architectural sites, my interest was not waning – rather, I found the Incan culture to be more and more fascinating and impressive. Their engineering, intellect, and planning, as evidenced at each stop along the way, makes me question what genius our generation is leaving behind that will last for 500+ years.

Inca Ruins on Day 3 trail

Hiking up the Inca Ruins with Steve

Our lunch stop gave our feet a much-needed rest, after which we continued to walk to the second – and last – pass of the trek. As we continued on the trail, more and more snow-capped peaks came into view, including the peak of Salkantay, elevation 6200 (several hundred meters higher than Kili). The peak looked so cold that the snow almost looked blue, and we heard from our guide that it was only the second or third time that year that the sky had been clear enough to see the top. We all knew we had been blessed with good weather but didn’t realize our good fortune until we heard that.

Unfortunately, a bit of bad fortune crossed my path…I was so stunned at the Salkantay peak, that I didn’t pay proper attention to securing my camera. As I was walking away from taking a snapshot, I “missed” my pocket and managed to drop my camera on the trail. The screen shattered, and the viewfinder no longer would open/close properly; I couldn’t take any more pictures. I was devastated – as this camera has been with me for the past three years. And what are the odds I’d lose it TWO weeks before the end of my trip, much less ONE DAY before seeing Machu Pichu?? Fortunately for me, we arrived at the next, and final, pass soon after, where Annabel and Steve generously offered to take photos for me on their camera. We also had the best view yet of the valley below, which was a humbling way to remember what was really important that day. Because Steve had hiked the Inca Trail a few years prior, he pointed out the back of Machu Pichu mountain and the area to which we would be hiking the next day.

Last photo with my camera...may it RIP

Photo at Pass #3

The rest of the afternoon was incredibly enjoyable. We stopped at two other architectural sites, and I spent most of the time hiking down with Annabel and Steve. I really loved being able to talk with them, and I found that we shared a lot of similar opinions and experiences. I am so thrilled for their one year trip and am lucky that I was put on the same trek as them. Our conversation that afternoon was a highlight of the trek for me.

Hiking down to the final camp, past Incan ruins

One last Incan ruin before Machu Pichu

We arrived in the biggest campsite yet that evening, where I was able to find some cold Gatorade, a disposable camera, and a warm shower. Several of us purchased Cusquena beers to celebrate three days of an amazing trip thus far, and we presented our porters with their tips and huge hugs of gratitude. The porters were headed back to Cusco the next morning, while we finished the trip with the walk to Machu Pichu.

Enjoying celebratory Cusquena beers with Annabel and Steve

Because we had descended over 1000M to 2600M, the camp was considerably warmer, and all of us slept well. We were awakened at 4:00 a.m., ate breakfast at 4:20 a.m., and found ourselves standing as the third group in the passport control line by 4:40 a.m. We were determined to not miss the sun rise over Machu Pichu but had at least a one hour hike ahead before arriving at the Sun Gate. After clearing the control at 5:30 a.m., we all walked quickly on the last part of the trail, watching as the sun slowly rose behind the Andes and created quite a contrast of dark mountain peaks against pale blue light. Around 6:30 a.m., we reached the Sun Gate, and everyone cheered shouts of joy for their first glimpse of the forgotten Inca city. In the distance, Machu Pichu was snuggled between mountain peaks, still sleeping in its shadow but eagerly waiting for the sun to cross its stone walls. I sat with Annabel and Steve, watched others joyously cross the Sun Gate, and patiently waited for the shadows to disappear over the ruins.

Crossing the Sun Gate for my first sight of Machu Pichu

For the next hour, Annabel took great progressive shots of the sun rising. Around 7:30 a.m., the sun finally illuminated the city, and we were one of only a handful of people still sitting at the Sun Gate to see the city emerge from the shadows. Shortly thereafter, we started the 30 minute walk down to the edge of Machu Pichu, and I was thankful for some solitary walking time to soak up the view. I couldn’t believe that I was getting ready to enter Machu Pichu, a site I had heard about years before but one I never thought I’d get to visit.

Right after the shadows slipped away from MP

Walking down to the Lost City

Wildlife spotting outside MP

The iconic MP shot

Once arriving, Annabel and Steve were kind enough to take several pictures for me, and we went through the requisite ticket check points before starting on a tour with Maria. She took us through several of the temples and homes in the town, pointing out architectural achievements, religious sites, and astronomical points, such as the Sun Dial. After a little over an hour, I left the tour to climb Waynu Pichu, the large mountain peak that looms behind Machu Pichu. Some of the others in the group had already left to do so, but I had been more interested in staying on the tour. However, when we neared the entrance to the WP gate, I decided I just had to do it – only 400 people are allowed to climb it every day, and the number was nearing the limit. Fortunately, I was able to slip in as #364, and the climb was worth every second. For about 45 minutes, I climbed steep, Incan stone steps directly uphill – just what I needed after four days of trekking! But the views from the top of the stones on the mountain, accessed by a rickety old wooden ladder, were worth every huff and puff. I even ran into Erin and Emily halfway up and was thrilled for the chance to take a breather while we chatted about our respective treks. I walked back down from WP with two friendly Aussies, an American from California, and an Irish guy on holiday, finally found my way to the middle of Machu Pichu, cursed the last steps I had to climb because of a wrong turn, and sat myself on a bus to the local town. It had been an amazing day, starting with an Andean trek at 5:30 a.m., a tour of Machu Pichu, and two birds-eye views of the ruins from both the Sun Gate and the summit of Waynu Pichu.

View from Wanyu Pichu

Back in town, I met the rest of my group at a local restaurant in Aguas Calientes (the closest town to MP), where I eagerly ordered an ice cold coke and a pizza. I waved farewell to several of our group members and enjoyed relaxing after four strenuous days. Annabel and Steve set off for the hot springs, while I ran to check my email and send Ben a note that I made it. I did some great shopping at the local market, before meeting back up with the others for our 6:00 p.m. train home.

The trip home was exhausting, as we took a train two hours back to Ollentaytambo. I was seated in a different car from Annabel and Steve and was hoping the seats around me would be empty. Unfortunately, every seat was taken with other backpackers, but those seated around me were peaceful and quiet, allowing me to listen to music and reflect on the past few days. Upon arrival in Ollentaytambo, we were escorted onto a bus, where I had the poor fortune of sitting next to a REALLY smelly man for the next two hour drive to Cusco. The ride was uncomfortable, and I was never so happy to finally end up back at Yoni’s house, where I crashed and fell into the best sleep I had in days.

On Monday, I woke up early in order to pack, as I was leaving Peru that afternoon. When I first arrived in Cusco early last month, I had a hard time settling down into one place. The thought of staying somewhere for three weeks seemed like an eternity, as I had essentially been bouncing around for the better part of five months. But Cusco had become a home, and I had enjoyed the ability to unpack my bag and settle in, even if just for a few days. Packing took longer than I had hoped on Monday, but I finally set out mid-morning to finish up some last minute loose ends for my Brazilian visa.

I met Annabel and Steve at Jack’s café that morning for much-appreciated good coffee and delicious pancakes. They were so kind as to bring their camera with them so that I could download their photos from the day before. Annabel and I talked about how it all seemed like a dream – that we couldn’t believe just the day before we had seen Machu Pichu. It didn’t seem real that I had just completed the Inca Trail and that I was leaving Cusco, but I was also ready to move on to the last two weeks of my travels. I waved good bye to Steve and Annabel afterwards and was really so sad to say goodbye. They were wonderful travel companions on my trek, and I wish them the best of luck on the next few months of their trip.

I finished up my stay in Cusco by running the last couple of errands, enjoying one final lunch at Yoni’s, and cramming last minute souvenir purchases into my bag. Yoni, Wendy, Beth, Erin, and Emily walked me out to the curb and helped load my heavy-laden bags into the car. It had been an outstanding few weeks with the ladies of my house. I will forever remember the five of them standing at the back of the car, waving goodbye as I drove away. Thank you so much to all of you for being a wonderful family to me in Cusco.

The rest of Monday was fairly uneventful – I sat next to an annoying local tour guide on my flight to Lima. Despite my attempts to just look out the window and soak up the last part of Peru, he just kept talking and talking and talking. Just a hint for all of you travelers out there – next time someone next to you has in their IPOD, don’t tap them on their shoulder repeatedly to ask them their opinion about Peruvian guinea pigs. Oh, and don’t wake them up to have them contribute spare change to a random cause. Oh, and don’t keep talking!!! Normally, I would be quite polite and make conversation, but I was just NOT in the mood.

I had a long layover (9+ hours) in Lima, but I just wasn’t in the spirit to try and travel in and out of the massive city. After helping a fellow around-the-world traveler with my broken Spanish, I ended up in a great conversation with Aussie Miles about his RTW trip with his girlfriend. We talked for a couple of hours, after which he headed off on his flight to England (where his girlfriend was waiting from a different flight), and I headed off to the local lounge. I figured it was worth the extra few dollars to have free food and a nice place to rest for a couple of hours. I finally hopped on my flight to Buenos Aires around 1:00 a.m., slept solidly on the four hour flight to Argentina, and woke up a big groggy in a new country.

After a waiting in a long customs line, claiming my baggage, withdrawing cash, and finding my way to a local taxi company, I sat in Chicago-style traffic into downtown and finally wound up at my hotel around 9:30 a.m. I dropped my bag and headed immediately to the local Brazilian embassy, as I had to obtain a visa prior to traveling onward. After a difficult inquisition, my visa application was finally accepted, and I was sent to another office a few blocks away to pay my bill. I had claimed number 4005 to be serviced, and unfortunately they were only on number 2036! I finally determined that I had just used the wrong machine, was given a more appropriate number, paid my ridiculously high visa application fee, and headed back to the hotel.

I don’t have much to report for the rest of the day, as I had been looking forward to a day of total relaxation since the week prior. I had actually booked in at a Marriott, where I took the hottest, longest shower I had in weeks and rested from my short night flight. It was a perfect, relaxing day.

Yesterday morning, my dear friend Paige arrived in Buenos Aires. When I first asked Paige last fall if she would come and meet me for a couple of weeks, she immediately accepted without hesitation. Paige and I had met months before starting school at UT in 1997, and we’ve shared heaps of good memories. After traveling with Paige in Europe during summer of 1999, I was convinced she was the best travel friend I’d ever find. So, I was thrilled to spend my last two weeks with her during our tour of Argentina and Brazil.

I’m going to save my updates for this portion of my trip until the end, but rest assured that we’ve already packed in a lot on our first day here. We head out to wine country this evening for the next few days, prior to returning to B.A. for an onward ferry to Uruguay. Can’t wait for these upcoming two weeks.

On another note, you may remember me mentioning in an earlier Peruvian post that Tara, Cheryl, and I visited a home tended by local Felipe during our trip to the Manu rainforest. As we were told, an American professor and his family visit the home during their summers for research. WELL, ironically, it turns out that this family is related to a co-worker and friend of mine from Deloitte. I’ve received kind notes from both Allison and her cousin, who is headed down to Peru in a couple of short weeks. They welcome visitors and have also established a website for anyone interested in learning more about Manu…http://www.projectbuenavista.com/. It’s a small world, afterall!

And finally, a HUGE thank you to all of you who remembered our anniversary and who sent us such kind notes. It was certainly a difficult day to be separated, but having such great friends and so much support from all of you made it much easier. Plus, now we’re only 13 days away from Greece!

The Second of June

The second day of every month has quite a bit of significance for me. Ben´s birthday is on the second of December, so today marks his ¨half birthday,¨ for those of you who may celebrate such funny festivities. The second is also the monthly anniversary of the day that Ben´s official deployment started - November 2 - which means that today is the end of his seventh month overseas.

But today, the second has an even more significance, as it marks our one year wedding anniversary. One year ago today, Ben and I stood in Mt. Pisgah United Methodist Church and committed our lives to each other in front of our friends and families. It was the most incredible day for both of us, and we are fortunate to have wonderful memories of the entire celebratory weekend.

Little did we know that we would be marking our anniversary one day later from Iraq and Peru. And although these are certainly unwelcome circumstances, I think that we both have come to appreciate these past few months for how much stronger our relationship has become.

Thank you to all of our friends and family who celebrated with us last year on this day. And thank you to all of you who have been such a huge support to us throughout this year, from sending Ben care packages, emailing both of us, and praying for safe passage until we are both at home, safe and sound, on U.S. soil.

Love to all, but most importantly, to my amazing husband and my hero, Ben.


(by outstanding photographer and friend, Katie Robertson, of Red Loft Studios)

Guest Blog...traveling with Cassill

Manu Cloud Forest

Chillin' Monkeys

Becky and her alpaca

Becky's favorite lunch spot

Becky tries her hand at archery (look at the concentration)

Hello all...my name is Tara and I'm a friend of Becky's from Deloitte and I'm this weeks guest blogger.

I happened to run into my old mentor (and Becky's) from Deloitte at a client in February. She asked if I had heard from Becky lately and I must say I felt a bit embarrassed to say no. I had not talked to Beck since a short time after her wedding when we met up for lunch at a now defunct restaurant. That being said I had no idea Ben was overseas serving our country (Thanks Ben!) nor did I have any clue that Beck had decided to travel the southern hemisphere. Beth (our old mentor) was kind enough to forward on Becky's blog and I immediately emailed her and asked what her schedule was so I could find a place to meet her. Although I am not the globetrotter Becky is I had been longing to get out and travel again. After a few emails back and forth it looked like Peru was going to be where we met up. Cheryl, my coworker, decided to come along and plans began to form (after busy season was done of course). Flights were booked, trains were arranged, passports were applied for (of course I had to reapply for a passport since I had no idea where mine was), backpacks were packed and one last shopping trip to Target was made and we were off to Peru!

It is odd to think that I had to travel to the Southern hemisphere to meet up with Becky for the first time in about six months...but you gotta do what you gotta do. As you can tell from her blog the trip was very busy. We were constantly jetting off here and there sprinkled in with a little relaxation! I won't go into the details as Becky did an amazing job of capturing our time together! Peru was an amazing country and the people were very friendly. The landscape was literally breathtaking (i mean how can it not be when you are hiking ancient ruins at 10,000 feet). On a daily basis we stumbled our way through Spanish, dodged alpacas on the street, stopped by an "annual" festival or two, paid to use bathrooms that may have existed at the time of Inca rule and had a pisco sour or two! For any one who may worry about Becky as she travels it may help to know she survived a walk in the rain forest where natives were recently seen (see attached link Rare uncontacted tribe photographed in Amazon http://www.reuters.com/article/email/idUSN2938303320080529). Sure that isn't exactly where we were but our new best friend Phillipe the one-eyed machete wielding Peruvian shared his experience with the natives with us...lets say that it ended up with him fleeing to the beach to spend the night! Did I also mention Phillipe saw a jaguar just a few weeks before in the very spot we ate lunch? All joking aside Becky is traveling safe (besides that little mishap with the ATM card). Her wonderful personality makes it very easy for people who don't speak the same language to be willing to help her find her way around.

I would like to thank Ben's parents for their hospitality in Cuzco. It was wonderful to meet them! And Becky, thank you for allowing me to share a little piece of your adventure with you. A piece of advice for the rest of your trip...avoid Puno during a strike, sharing a seat with a large Peruvian woman for an hour and a half gets very uncomfortable! Plus all the glass and boulders in the road making traveling a bear!

Thanks for allowing me to be your guest blogger and I can't wait to hear about the rest of your travels when you arrive back from Greece. Enjoy your time with Ben! Safe travels!

I've included some pictures but I couldn't figure out how to put them at the bottom so they are all at the top...I am sure you will see why she didn't include some of them!

The Children of Cusco

The morning that the Knights left Cusco, I decided I needed some time in a peaceful place, so I headed to the Cathedral to sit in solitude for a bit. Following a quiet walk back to my hotel, I grabbed a taxi and headed back to the bucolic hotel in Urubamba for some peace before beginning the volunteer work. First, I stopped in Pisac, a small town in the Sacred Valley, for a visit to the ruins. As you may remember, I had stopped at the famous Pisac market en route to Manu but had not had a chance to see the ruins on that trip. I’m so glad I made the detour in route to Urubamba, as the Pisac ruins were the most extensive and the most impressive that I had seen thus far. I chose not to hire a guide for the ruins, and although I didn’t quite understand the significance of everything, I found wandering around on my own to be most enjoyable. The place had quite a spiritual feel and a Zen-like aura to it that I found was best experienced on my own.


The Ruins at Pisac

I’ve found the Peruvians to be extremely friendly and welcoming, and the managers at the Urubamba lodge were no exception. They welcomed me back to the hotel with open arms and cheek kisses (as is a customary greeting here) and gave me a room upgrade to a suite only a stone’s throw from the river. After a tasty lunch and a couple of cusquena beers, I commenced reading my book and subsequently napping in the sun with the river roaring in the background. Dinner in the restaurant was by candlelight, and the only other guests were a small Peruvian family and an American tour group headed up to Machu Pichu the next day. I slept better than I had in days, waking in time for a filling breakfast and some more time in the sun before heading back to Cusco.

I made one final stop in the Sacred Valley in Chinchero, a small town with more Inca ruins and a large Sunday market. Unfortunately, I was too late for the market but did have a chance to wander through the stalls as the owners were breaking them down and toting large packs up to the ruin sites. The ruins here were also quite beautiful, and the only other visitors were some French tourists (ugh) and locals relaxing on their token day off. I believe I’ve now visited all the major towns and ruins in the Sacred Valley, with the exception (of course) of Machu Pichu. I had started to get a bit “ruined” out, so it was an apropos time to switch gears to volunteering.

Ruins at Chinchero

Local woman enjoying a Sunday afternoon in Chinchero

I arrived back in Cusco at the Maximo Nivel school and was taken to the house of Yoni Mendoza, a lovely older Peruvian woman who lives with her one daughter, Wendy. Wendy is around twenty years old and is a student in the local university, studying tourism. I learned that I was one of five female volunteers staying with Yoni and quickly engaged in a conversation with friendly Katrina, an electrical engineer from Seattle. My other three roommates included Emily and Erin, friends from Charlotte, NC who had just completed their freshmen years in college (Tulane and Georgetown, respectively), and Chantelle, an Aussie from Sydney who was wrapping up a three month trip in Asia and South America. Chantelle was on a four day trek to Machu Pichu and had been in Cusco one week before us, so we weren’t able to meet her until Monday evening. In anticipation of our morning volunteer orientation, Yoni and Wendy took the remaining four of us on a stroll around the city, pointing out helpful sites and landmarks.

The next morning, Emily, Erin, Katrina, and I walked fifteen minutes to the school and met the other volunteers that were starting their programs on the same day. We learned that several volunteer organizations, including the Global Volunteer Network, support and funnel volunteers to the Maximo Nivel program. Maximo Nivel provides volunteers to over 30 area community centers, orphanages, schools, and other programs established for assisting and helping local children. Our group of fifteen volunteers was joining 40 other volunteers already living in Cusco, and we were told that another 140 volunteers were arriving in June. It’s clearly a thriving and well-organized outfit.

Katrina and I were assigned to work at Huchay Yachaq, a local community center in the hills above town. The students attend school during the day and then spend their afternoons at HY, working on homework, trying to learn English, and playing with other local children. We were told that anywhere from 60-80 neighborhood children could show up on any given afternoon, and that we would be two of three volunteers helping the two staff in the school. I was, understandably, a little nervous. Chantelle was also volunteering at HY in the mornings, as we later learned. Erin was assigned to a local health clinic, and Emily was going to be teaching English in a school outside of Cusco.

That afternoon, Carlene, one of the volunteer coordinators, took Katrina and me up to HY. Carlene had actually been a volunteer at the center herself a few months prior and had raised over $3,000 for building improvements when she had returned home to LA for a few months. In order to get to HY, we took a bus called Arco Iris (or “rainbow” in English) for 60 soles (around $.20) outside of town about 15 minutes. We then hopped off and proceeded to walk up an extremely steep dirt road for the next 15 minutes. We learned that the government had recently funded the paving of the road, and some workers appeared to be making slow progress on laying the concrete. While walking, the most beautiful little children came running out of their houses to greet us, sprinting with open arms to give us hugs. These little ones had the biggest smiles on their faces and greeted all of us with little cheek kisses and exclamations of “Hola, Profe” (short for “professora”). Several of them walked with us up the hill to the school.
My heart just broke when I walked into the building. It was quite large, but in bad need of a new paint job and, in general, some care. The first floor was dirt, with some tables in the main room and a children’s classroom on one side. The second floor had more tables, a small library of children’s books, and an art case. We met the two angels, Willard and Marlene, who work with the children everyday, for what I’m sure is a meager salary. As we spoke with Willard and Marlene, the children began to arrive with their backpacks and boundless energy. It was clearly going to be a great place to spend some time.

In walking back to town, we passed the small houses where most of the children live in extreme poverty. None of the roads were paved, and it appeared that most of the houses didn’t have any of the comforts we consider necessities – proper beds, much running water, and boundless amounts of electricity to power appliances. I was looking forward to returning the next afternoon.

On Monday night, the four of us had planned to meet up with some of the other volunteers from our orientation. Although Cusco is renowned for its large number of pubs, the only one we knew was an Irish (of course) pub on the main square. Over some not-so-Irish beers, we enjoyed chatting with the others that had signed up to spend the next 2-4 weeks in Cusco. In general, most of the volunteers were from the US, and even a couple were from Chicago (the father of one even works in the Chicago office of Deloitte!). I quite liked our group.

On Tuesday, I met fellow volunteer Lara for Spanish class. My program through GVN included one week of Spanish classes, of which I was in need. I must admit I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how well my Spanish has returned to me, given that the last time I spoke much Spanish was during my months in Costa Rica back in 2000. But my memory was severely lacking proper grammar and some basic words, which I hoped the intermediate class would trigger. On the first day, Lara and I spent most of the class chatting with our teacher about American and Peruvian politics, all in Spanish. Despite some tumbles, I understood most of what our teacher said and was able to communicate in broken words and phrases. The teacher also gave us some short homework aimed at helping us with verb tenses, which is by far the most difficult part of this language.

That afternoon, Katrina and I headed with Dwayne, an Aussie volunteer, up to HY. It was certainly overwhelming with so many children, but we had a great time. Although I couldn’t communicate extensively with the children, we had a fun afternoon of arts and crafts, making earrings, bracelets, and necklaces out of wire and beads. The project kept the kids entertained for hours, and I walked away with two pairs of earrings and bracelets, all gifted from the little ones. I couldn’t believe it – these kids have NOTHING, yet they gave ME gifts. They made the gifts and gave them to me without a second thought, as if it was the most natural thing for them to give the gringa gifts that they themselves wanted to keep. I did the only thing I knew how – to praise all of them, to thank them, and to give them huge hugs of appreciation. Carlene said the afternoon before that the children were just so starved for attention and love; how I wish I could give them so very much more than just my time for a few brief afternoons.

That night, we helped Willard dole out their dinner, which consisted of a mug of milk and a piece of bread. The money for both had been donated by prior volunteers, and the children sat patiently waiting to receive their small roll for dinner. As I mentioned, all of these children are beautiful, but they clearly lack proper dental care (as evidenced by the missing or rotting teeth), health care, and parental attention. Some are in need of a bath or a shower, in addition to a lot of love. HY offers them a safe place to spend their afternoon and a place to learn, play, and spend time with friends.

During my Spanish class on Wednesday, I met Amy, another volunteer from the States. Amy had been working as an editor for Frommer’s for some time prior to applying to grad school at NYU. Before commencing her program, she decided to take one year off to pursue other interests. Amy had arrived in Peru in March and was certainly the veteran volunteer – as she had spent a couple of months at HY prior to working at a girl’s orphanage for a couple of weeks. I enjoyed chatting with Amy and was thrilled when she decided to return to the HY program for her last couple of weeks in Cusco. That afternoon, she and I traveled up to the center, and it was obvious how much the children loved seeing her again. We were met with huge hugs and kisses and had another great afternoon with the ninos. I helped one little girl with her subtraction homework, and then I taught some of the young girls songs I dug up from my Girl Scout camp past.

Because Thursday was a public holiday here in Cusco, several of the volunteers had decided to head out for a few drinks. The five of us from Yoni’s house headed over to another home where 15 volunteers were living. From there, we went to a local karaoke bar that was clearly overwhelmed and amused by the 20 of us that invaded their place on a quiet Wednesday night. Of course, some usual karaoke selections were sung, including songs from Neil Diamond, Backstreet Boys, and TLC J I’m not sure the locals were all that amused with the poor singing, although at one point I did see the owner of the bar holding his cell phone up to the volunteer group belting out a local favorite of “Te Vas.” I laughed quite a bit that whole evening.

The five of us weren’t so motivated on Thursday morning but finally made our way to the Plaza de Armas for the Corpus Christi festival. We couldn’t actually step foot in the plaza, as it was a wall-to-wall crowd of locals from Cusco and the surrounding towns. Several statues of saints and of Jesus were being carried through the crowds into the Cathedral, and groups of Peruvians were singing and dancing in the streets. We took a couple of snapshots and then headed up to the Plaza of San Francisco, where food stalls had been set up to sell the local Peruvian favorite dish called churriacha. Five older men gave up their table for us, and we ordered up five plates of what turned out to be the most random assortment of food. Included on each plate was a piece of grilled cuy, or guinea pig; chicken; cornbread; sausage; some green vegetable resembling spinach; peppers; cheese; and caviar. We all tried the plates of food but quickly concluded that we should have ordered only 2 – instead of 5. I’m glad we attempted to eat the local fare, but we left the stall hungry. Fortunately, a familiar café was around the corner that served some decent sandwiches, fruit salads, and pasta.

Plaza de Armas on Corpus Christi

Statues toted through the Plaza

Plates of local food, and the local men who gave up their seats for us (one supposedly works for a local magazine?)

Mi amigas de me casa - (from left) Erin, Katrina, Emily, and Chantelle

That afternoon, we went to the apartment of Edith, a Peruvian woman that works at HY in the morning with Chantelle. When not working with the kids, Edith has a side business of fortune telling and palm-reading. We were all a little curious and decided to check it out. She lived in an apartment building in a different side of town, which we finally found after knocking on several different doors. I wasn’t sure I was actually going to have my fortune told, but the others were keen. We decided to go in a group, and after the first person heard their fortune (which wasn’t really that bad), I definitely decided not to do it – mostly out of fear that I would worry needlessly about something that may or may not be true.

After the fortune telling, we all were in need of a beer and some cake (a great combination), and we headed up to the San Blas area of Cusco. Chantelle found a great restaurant that specialized in crepes, and we had a pleasant dinner to wind up a fun day in the city. Afterwards, we headed back to Yoni’s house, where I picked up my bag for the weekend. I had decided to head down to southern Peru and Bolivia, to make up for the trip that had been cancelled the week before at the last minute.

I arrived at the bus station, ticket in hand, minutes before the power went out in the whole city. Fortunately, we started boarding the bus soon afterwards, and I grabbed the window seat next to a larger woman that I believe was from Spain. Although the bus was safe and heated (thank goodness), I only was able to enjoy a couple of hours of sleep given some sickness that had set in the day before. I arrived in Puno at five in the morning, where it was absolutely freezing. Fortunately, a kind main in the bus station directed me up to the cafeteria, where I attempted to warm myself over a cup of bad coffee. At around 6:00 a.m., I took a taxi to the office of a local tour company with which I had reserved a day trip from Puno, on the Peruvian northwest side of Lake Titicaca, to La Paz, the capital of Bolivia.

The tour bus left a 6:30, with six other tourists – two couples from Argentina, and one from Germany. For the first three hours, we rode alongside Lake Titicaca, a huge lake that spans Peru and Bolivia. It’s supposedly the highest navigable lake in the world at around 3800M. Unfortunately, my sickness and my exhaustion had hit me, and I kept dozing throughout the lakeside drive. We finally stopped in a small town on the shores of the lake, where I could splash some water on my face and buy some breakfast. One hour later, we crossed the border into Bolivia, which entailed us walking over a chain serving as a fence to exit the country and enter the next. Bolivia is one of the many countries now imposing reciprocal visa requirements on US Citizens, and I had to pay $100 (a LOT of money here in South America) to obtain a visa stamp for entry. Once through the border, we drove a few more minutes to the lake-side Bolivian town of Copacabana.

Crossing the border into Bolivia

Although it’s not as beautiful as the real Copacabana in Brazil (supposedly), I enjoyed our few minutes in the quaint town. We had a tour of the church, in which a brown-faced virgin statue was placed over 400 years ago. Copacabana is reputedly one of the most important spiritual towns in Bolivia due to its famous cathedral and Virgin Mary statue. After visiting the church, I walked through the main street to the bank of the lake. There were several cafes and boats for rent, and it seemed like a pretty tranquil and relaxed town.

From Copacabana, we boarded the company’s catamaran for a cruise on Lake Titicaca. On the boat, I met a kind couple from DC – Barbara and Herb. They were wrapping up a two week vacation in Bolivia, during which time they had traveled to the rain forest, the salt mines, and several of the larger cities. I was thankful to have another English-speaking couple on board, and they were nice enough to let me join them for our snack and later for lunch.

After sailing one hour on the lake, we stopped at the Isla del Sol, the largest island in Lake Titicaca. The island is 17 km in length and is apparently great for trekking. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough time to do a proper hike, but we did get to walk up the hill on one end side of the island and around an area that the tour company had developed to show local crops and animals. The views over the lake were magnificent, and because of the clear day, we were able to see the snow peaks of the dormant volcanoes that surrounded the lake as well. Our stop on the Isla del Sol ended with a boat ride on a replica of a typical reed vessel that was used by the Incas hundreds of years ago.

Our cruise ended with lunch on the boat, followed by a three hour sail to the southern part of Lake Titicaca. As the sun set, we disembarked and boarded a van for the final two hour drive into La Paz.

Bolivian flag and some snow-capped peaks on Lake Titicaca

Llamas and alpacas on Isla de Sol

Traditional ceremony on Isla de Sol

On board a traditional reed vessel on Lake Titicaca

Sunset on Lake Titicaca

I didn’t know much about La Paz but remembered that my friend Smita from NC had spent a summer abroad there when I was studying in Costa Rica. She had raved about her experience, so I was curious to see the city. Besides, it’s supposedly the world’s highest capital city, and with being so close, how could I not go for a visit??

La Paz is located in the crater of a volcano, and as we rounded one corner on our drive, we looked down into a bowl of shining lights. We had already passed through El Alto, a huge suburb that has almost matched La Paz in size and population, to reach the rim of the city. We drove down into La Paz, where the streets were full and people were buzzing with Friday night energy. We dropped off the American couple at their hotel, and then I was dropped off at my hotel which appeared to be well-placed in the center of the action. Although it was only around 8:00 p.m., I headed directly to bed. I was exhausted from being up for almost two full days and from a cold that had started to settle in.

The next morning, I woke up not feeling so hot, but decided to make the most of my one day in La Paz. I headed out to a local coffee shop for breakfast, and then wandered around some of the sights I thought sounded the most interesting – a market for knock-offs called, not surprisingly, El Mercado Negro (The Black Market), the Witchcraft Market, two cathedrals, a pedestrian mall, and an artesan area. I attempted to find a Museum to no avail. After a close brush with what I think was an attempt to be robbed (some scam about a “lost” Mexican tourist and a local “stranger” who needed directions in English??), I decided I had seen enough of the city and headed back to my hotel. I had the chance to catch up on some emails and to just relax, before heading to a tasty dinner that evening.

Plaza de San Francisco in La Paz

The next morning, I woke early to catch my flight back to Cusco from Bolivia. I learned that morning how much I disliked Aero Sur, the local airline. Because I didn’t have my credit card with me that I had used to book my ticket (I had only taken the bare essentials with me to Bolivia), the airline refused to check me in until I had purchased another ticket. There were no kiosks or quick lines, and it ultimately took me almost two hours from the time I entered the airport to finally sit down at my gate, despite no one else in the security line.

I’m glad that I took the trip down to La Paz, but in general, I didn’t really like the city. In all fairness, I probably didn’t give it its due time, but I just didn’t find much there that interested me. I legitimately tried to see several sites during the day, but wound up back at my hotel five hours later. The city was pretty, and I certainly would like to see more of the country, but I was really looking forward to returning back to Cusco by the time I woke up on Sunday. On the one hour flight “home,” I loved seeing the scenery change from flat plains with distant mountains into the dramatic Andes and the beautiful valleys of Peru. I arrived back at my house early enough to catch up with my fellow amigas, hear about their weekend, and relax the rest of the day. I was able to speak with both Ben via phone and my parents via webcam, and our whole “family” of seven enjoyed a nice dinner Sunday evening.

The Andes in Peru, in flight back to Cusco

Sunday evening at our house - Erin, with a glass of wine, and our new TV blanket

On Monday, I met a conversation partner with whom I was to practice my Spanish in lieu of more classes. Carmen was around 38 years old, had three children, and was learning English to help with tours of Machu Pichu. We had a pleasant hour, alternating between Spanish and English, and it certainly was good practice for me. After lunch at Yoni’s house, I headed up to HY for volunteering. Once I arrived at the school, I learned that the school had been closed for some building improvements. The $3,000 that Carlene, the former volunteer, had raised was used to pour cement in the first floor, lay a sidewalk, and build proper steps up to the building. Although the building had been closed, I had a really pleasant walk back down to the bus with two local teenagers who attend the community center. I learned all about their families (6-8 brothers and sisters!) and chatted with them about life in the US. I promised to see them again on Wednesday, when the construction was to be finished. Because I still didn’t feel great, I made good use of the afternoon off to rest.

HY was scheduled to be closed on Tuesday, so I decided to head with Emily to her school outside of Cusco that morning. We left Cusco around 8:00, rode a bus for about 30 minutes, and arrived in the little town of Poroy shortly after 9:00. The town is small, and quite poor, and it was clear that the English teaching that Emily and three other volunteers were doing was much appreciated. I joined Emily in two classes – one class of first graders that we had for an hour and a half!, and another class of teenagers that we taught for around 45 minutes. Emily was great with the little ones, thinking quickly on her feet and using basic songs and games to teach the children body parts (from the song “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes”), to playing games of numbers (“Por favor, grupos de dos”). I was worn out after the first couple of hours but was looking forward to the class of teenagers, who apparently already had some knowledge of English and who were slated to learn high numbers that day. I definitely enjoyed this group, although teaching them was a challenge. I have a whole new respect for my parents and my friends who are teachers.

Emily with her students in Poroy

We left the school and headed back to town, and then in the afternoon just relaxed back at Yoni’s house. I’m afraid the cold nights and lack of heat here are starting to get the best of me, and I find that I am feeling worse and worse instead of better and better.

Yesterday, Katrina and I met with different tandem partners, two young ladies (16 and 19 years old) who are studying English at Maximo Nivel. We enjoyed chatting with them and then listening to them giggle about all of the young boys they thought were cute here at school. Katrina and I took a break from our Peruvian house lunches and headed to Jack’s Café, a local restaurant catering to tourists; we split some tasty sandwiches and purchased some cake to share with our friends for dessert that evening. Yesterday afternoon, Amy and I headed up to HY with Dwayne, only to learn that the construction had not yet been completed. We still were able to hang out with the little ones for a bit, but were told to return on Friday when the construction should be done. I enjoyed chatting with some little girls and snapping some photos on our way back to the city. When talking with them, one of them asked for my bottle of water, which they eagerly passed around and consumed quite quickly.

Classroom at HY

Construction on the sidewalk, with Cusco in the background

Outside of HY

Walking to catch our bus from HY - with some local kids playing football (soccer) in the distance

Some little girls from HY

Children running down from HY, with Cusco in the background

One little nina

Because Chantelle and Katrina are leaving this weekend, the seven of us from our house are taking them, along with Yoni and Wendy, to dinner tonight in the main plaza. We will certainly be sad to see them leave, as the five of us have become quick friends. Erin and Emily have other friends coming into town this weekend to volunteer for the next few weeks, and we hope that they will be able to join our house. If not, we’re promised two others that we hope will be as much fun as the two we’re losing.

A word of congratulations to a few friends from home…much belated congratulations to the Bordeauxs on the birth of Ben earlier this spring and to the Murphys on the birth of Abigail in March; and recent congratulations on the arrival of Dillon Turner out in Seattle. I’m also thrilled by good news from the Angel family and counting the days for the Markey family. And of course, I’m still counting down until I get to see Ben, in exactly 28 days.