Go Travel! Get Lost!

I`m writing this piece for my friend Anthony, to whom I am forever indebted for encouraging and inspiring me to travel and live a dream I was afraid of. Thank you, buddy. What follows is my attempt to assuage the fears of others and help to send them on their way. How can you ever find yourself if you don`t lose yourself for a while. Go travel. Get lost.

What do you wish for when you close your eyes? Palm trees, beaches, large exotic birds, sea mammals barking from the rock outcroppings dotting your horizon? Perhaps mountains that stretch above the clouds, white celestial masses swirling and breaking to reveal white capped peaks, swift flowing streams of glacier melt cascading down the mountain side, finding their way into raging rivers where adventerous rafters shoot through the rapids, cheering for their lives? Or vast bleached dunes with patterns in the sands from wind currents and fossils in them as well from some historical ocean or lake that dried up thousands of years ago? Or forests of giants, giant trees, giant bugs, giant birds, giant lizards, and more green then light or shadows? Or perhaps you dream in a language you don`t fully understand, and dances that toss you, or pull you close, and food that entices you while forcing you to guess what it once was, and religious festivals with bright colors and masked men and women who gyrate and cheer and sing? Or an endless ocean, no land in sight, with waves that make you wince and winds that force you faster and farther then you ever imagined?

Whatever you dream should not stay a dream. You know this, and yet something holds you back. What is it? Why, fear, of course. Fear of the unknown, fear from the warnings of others who haven`t lived your dream, fear of what you leave behind. We all know life is best lived when we face our fears, but that doesn`t make doing so any easier. But one thing that does is the knowledge others have done what you want to. Have no doubt others have made these choices and benefitted from them. So before reading further I`ll ask you to ask others if they`ve done what you wish to. Find those who have and find out how to do it. Then do it. Hell, a great place to start is this amazing search engine called Google. Type in what you want, read how it`s been done before, then go do it.

Fear number one, MONEY.

To live costs. We work to live and so travel, which appears as a major expense, can add stress to ones life because of the financial burden it appears. And yes, you can go to five star resorts, or expensive countries such as in Western Europe (where you can still find cheap hostels and learn how inexpensive ramen noodles, rice, and potatoes are the world over) but you can also pack a few clothes into a bakcpack and hit the less developed world where your dollar stretches. Having travelled in Peru now for the past two months I`m amazed at the luxuries I can afford while staying within my budget (which is about $1000 a month). I`ve done four and five day guided treks through the Andes, large meals of seafood, steak, alpaca. I`ve bought wonderfully warm and soft alpaca sweaters, taken Spanish Lessons, and done adventurous activities like sand boarding. I`ve enjoyed many nights on the town, dancing til 5 in the morning. And I`ve splurged on the more comfortable buses which offer full bed and food for an extra few bucks. The largest expenses while travelling are tranportation and accomadation, and they`re not much. My averge stay in a hostel costs me about $9 a night. Some places I`ve paid $15 and others $6. And to travel by bus I pay usually between $12 and $35. If you`re that nervous about money I suggest choosing a destination you would prefer to spend time in. The less you move around the cheaper life becomes. Staying in a place allows you to spend less money on transportation and to make your own meals. Making your own meals is also a great experience to share with the new friends you`ve made. For about $4 a piece friends and I in Lima made spaghetti and meat sauce, with homemade guacamole for an appetizer, we had a red argentinian wine to compliment the meal, and fresh papayas for dessert. But generally food expenses are not excessive. In Peru they have a lunch deal called a Menù where for between $2 and $5 you generally get two courses and a drink, and the food (especially the sopa/soup in Peru) is spectacular.

Other ways to save on expenses are to volunteer either with funded programs like WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farming) or with local programs that help out the less fortunate. Often these programs provide you with a place to stay, possibly meals, or at the least a discounted rate not to mention an amazing, educational, and generous experience. Another common cost cutter is to work at a hostel. Most don`t offer pay (though some do such as Irish Rover in Cusco), but they will provide a free stay and discounted meals and drinks, and the work load is not long nor difficult. Friends of mine spend most of their work hours making drinks, planning parties, and uploading pictures to the hostels website. And let`s not forget about the TESOL and TEFOL (Teach English as a Second/Foreign Language) programs (which provide a better chance at finding a job abroad but are not always necessary in countries like China and Korea and Japan if you want to teach English). A month long course can provide you with a 6 month to 1 year long job in a foreign country. One friend I`ve made travelling has spent the last eight years working one year in Japan, Korea, and China teaching English (without a TESOL certificate), saving his money, and then travelling for the next two years before once again taking a job teaching.

So have no fear about the expense of travelling. You can spend plenty of money in no time at all if you want, but it`s also possible to have comfort and wonderful experiences for far less then you`re spending at home.

Fear number two, LEAVING YOUR LIFE.

If you are in love with your job and your home and your life then you may have no interest in travel. But let`s say you still do. What is the harm in asking your work for time off to travel? Most jobs already provide you two to three weeks vacation. Use that time, and I still say ask for more. The worst the happens is you`re told no.

Now let`s say, like me, you enjoy your job but it does not appear to be a career path. The truth is you are blessed in this economy to have a job you enjoy even if it`s not your dream job. And that kind of job can be hard to leave. The economy is not doing particularly well and the job market looks scarce. So how can you leave your job for something temporary like travelling? Well, the answer requires that you have faith in a general principle I believe in and live by. But before we get into that also consider these possibilities.
1) You can get a job abroad. Working visas are not always difficult to get, especially in a country like Australia where minimum wage is around $20 (no shit, right!). What, you don`t want to spend a few months to a year making sandwiches, waiting tables, serving drinks, working on a farm, or canvassing for a non profit for $20 an hour? Why the hell not?
2) Jobs in America still exist. I had a friend who applied to two to three jobs a day for a month or more before he finally found a low paying job in the pizza industry. Oof, it`s tough out there. Well... I also had a girlfriend who would spend three to four hours a day applying to jobs in a few general fields she`s worked in before (she applied to about 40 jobs a day and had a different resume for each field) and would find a job with around the same pay she`d been making in less then a week, every time. She would often quit those jobs, but that was due more to clashing personalities between herself and her bosses, and she always had another job less than a week later. So, the jobs are out there. You just have to treat finding a job like it`s your job.

So what is this basic principle that guides me through what should be the tough decisions in life like leaving my job, selling almost everything I own, and hopping on a plane, with only a one way ticket, to see the world and learn about others and myself? It`s this...

Once you`ve achieved something, you can always achieve it again.

One of my best friends was offered a job after college with a starting salary of $50,000 a year (maybe more, it`s been a few years). He came to me wondering what he should do. That was a great salary to be offered right out of college, but his dream was to work in the TV and Film industry. It was during those discussions that we both came to the realization that since he was already offered that job he could always be offered it again. He didn`t need to take it now and could go chase his dreams with confidence that he had worked hard at this company and proven himself worthy of their offer and now he could put that same effort towards what he really wanted. He now lives in LA and passed up a Junior Executive position in reality TV because that`s also not his dream. Great guy.

So don`t worry about leaving everything you have. You can get it all back. It`s not hard to buy a new Calvin Klein shirt or ¨Friends¨ box set. And don`t worry about your job filling your pisition, good business is about expanding and if you`re a good employee they`ll want you back. Especially a confident decision maker like yourself who just got back from the adventour of a lifetime where you obviously grew as an individual and now have more to offer than before.
:)

Fear number three, VIOLENCE and CRIME.

Most places are not as violent and dangerous as our news media makes them out to be. I`ve met travellers who were in Egypt during the revolution and would hear on the news that where they were was rioting. They would look around at the calm streets and ask ¨where?¨ However, I`ve been warned about certain towns and such should I head into Columbia. Just ask local people what`s safe and what`s not and you`ll be fine. With that said, crime does exist, but I have a story to share with you...

I heard a story where a couple was approached by another couple who hung out with them over the course of the night and took turns buying rounds. The second couple drugged the first couple, stripped them naked, stole everything including their rental car, and left them in the gutter. Now, I`ve heard of this terrible scam happening in two different places. The first is in Bogota, Columbia. The second is in Los Angeles, California. We live in a violent country. A college friend was beat up at a party in Boston, my sister-in-law was mugged in Los Angeles, and my best friend was murdered in a small town in Connecticut. America is no picnic of good will and brotherly love. But because of this we as Americans have wonderful common sense. While travelling I won`t walk down dark streets at night, I won`t take unregistered taxis, I won`t get so shitfaced I risk my personal health getting back to my hostel, I won`t travel with more on me then the money I wish to spend that night or day, I don`t leave my things unnatended unless they`re locked up, I don`t go to ATMs past sundown, I don`t travel to most places alone, and I ask the locals everything I can about the neighborhoods I`m in. Basically I do everything I would do if I were to go to a major US city for the first time. Use common sense and you`ll be just fine. Our country is more violent and crime ridden them some you may want to visit (like Japan) and it`s taught us not to be easy targets. That means we most likely won`t be. Again, I can`t stress this enough, just use your head and you`ll be fine.

So again. If you have a dream, especially the dream to travel, then go do it. This has been one of the best experiences of my life and one I know I will continue to repeat, but at first I was afraid, I was petrified, but I grew strong... thanks Anthony for the support and advice and I hope this short piece offers some insight and inspiration for the would be travelers of the world.

The Salkantay Trek

As a child I was fascinated with the Rockies. Every trip to California and my one trip to Utah I would stare mystified out the plane window at those looming towers of rock. I´ve lived in the country, the city, suburbia. I´ve lived in the woods, the desert(ish), and by the beach. Yet I´ve always felt I was a mountain man. No clear reason for this. Perhaps it's my love of views from high places, or the reassuring feeling of your own insignificance (meaning every decision made is not as large and ominous as you believe. Not in the grand scheme of things. How liberating to remember your choices affect mostly you, in the moment you make them, so make the one you want and damn the consequences. Most of the time it works out just fine.). Whatever the reason I've always believed it to be true, and having just spent 5 days, 4 nights, and about 72 kilometers hiking the Andes I have my confirmation. I am in love with and in awe of the Andes.

The Inca Trail closes in February for trail maintenance, but for half the price and an extra day the Salkantay Trek is a great option. It doesn't take you through the trail the Inca's used, and it doesn't take you to extra ruins, but it does take you up into the Andes (higher then the Inca Trail) beneath the Salkantay peak and then down through the rain forests. I reccomend it for anyone who, like me, is more in awe of our natural world then even the most impressive man made wonders. Even Machu Picchu, which is certainly a spectacular feat and a place I've been fascinated with since I wrote a report on the Inca's in the 3rd grade, could not hold my attention like the mountains and river surrounding it.

Because it's the rainy season there were two truths to this trek. First, we were rarely dry (thank god for good gear) as it rained every day. Second, the best views were hidden behind impenetrable clouds. But, much like New England, if you didn't like the weather all you had to do was wait a minute and it would change. The clouds would swirl, lift, and break. Suddenly a hole would appear, the cloud cover now a frame of the mountain, the peak, the waterfall behind it: like a solitary picture on a white wall: a black hole to another dimesion in the emptiness of space. And again, if you waited a few minutes, staring in astonishment at what was once hidden from view, the clouds would again swirl, lift, and close back in. White. Gone.

The trek is physically challenging, but because of the patient guides and the built in time I'd recommend it to anyone. There are two real challenges to this trek and both are on the second day. The first is the altitude climb: about 800 meters in 4 hours, and 550 of those in 2 hours. Get into a rhythm. Look at the feet of the person infront of you, count two steps per breath, and don't stop. Halfway up is a resting point which looks out over the valley you've come from and towards the peak you're getting closer to. You'll have plenty of time here to rest and pat yourself on your back. The worst of the climb is over. The second is the walk down from the highest point. You're walking on a river bed most of the way, and unlike the river beds in California I'm used to the rocks here are larger and looser (no pebbles on this walk), the parts of the bed which aren't rocks are slick, deep mud, and worse, there's actually water in these rivers. For me at least, the walk down was the hardest part. I was the first person in my group to the top of the highest point, even before the guides, about 4600 meters up, but I was one of the last down the mountain. Worse still, I fucked up my knee. Even as I'm writing this I'm on 800 miligrams of ibuprofen.

On the third day my right knee was swollen, but there were no more horses to rent and I had to walk 4 hours (4 gorgeous hours... the most beautiful weather of the trip through lush green mountains) to the town of La Playa (despite the name there are no beaches). On the fourth day my knee was still swollen and I was able to skip three hours of the hike by taking a bus to the check point outside of the Hydroelectric plant. But then I had to walk three hours to the town of Agues Caliente. Despite the pain in my knee I would do both those hikes the same. They were too splendid to miss. The fifth and final day meant waking up at 3:45 am, getting out of the hostal by 4:15 am, and then hiking an hour and a half up Machu Picchu mountain, up steep, tall, and slick wet, stone stairs to the entrance to the Inca city. Or, because of my knee, I could take a bus. I walked. Every blog I've read about the Salkantay trek says their group was the first to reach Machu Picchu. How can you possibly believe them all? But I can actually say my group was the first up that day (there were two other groups and we all finished in different spurts, but my entire group was the first full group to complete the hike up... fucking proud) and I was one of the first 5 people (our guide included) to reach the top.

The downside to this was my knee hurt too much afterwards to hike up Huacapicchu and see the outline of the Inca city below (it's shaped like a condor). But I gave my ticket to my Dutch friend, Dirik, and limped up part of the Inca Trail to the Sun Gate.

It was an incredible experience. One I would gladly repeat. There were 19 of us on the trek, and 2 guides as well. The company was open, welcoming, and fun. The guides were patient, knowledgeable, and funny. And the food was good too. It was challenging, rewarding, and relaxing. The hot springs near Santa Teresa, nestled beneath the mountains, in view of a waterfall, and alongside a roaring river, was a well earned treat after more then 50 kilometers of constant treking. I loved every moment. Even the painful ones. I wish I could say more on Machu Picchu, but honestly, the Andes were the highlight.

Again, thanks for reading and following. I still have so much I haven't written about, but I have time. I've decided to spend two more weeks in Cusco (I really do love the Andes) to take Spanish lessons before travelling on, so I should have more time to write. Love and miss you all and at some point in your life come visit the Andes.

Ciao,

-Ethan

Should I Stay or Should I Go Now

Okay, it´s been two weeks since my last post and there´s alot to write about but most of it will have to wait as there´s so much more to do then time to write. Lo siento. Seems the best place to start is still in Lima.

I finally got my debit card. I had to switch hostels because I never reserved enough days and it filled up Thursday and through the weekend. But I was staying nearby so I walked over everyday and then on Saturday it was there and I was free to move on. Only, I no longer wanted to move on, and I didn´t. I spent almost another week in Lima and now after five days in Cusco I´m running into the same dilemma.
To stay or go is a question I´m finding comes up often in the backpackers world. The benefits of moving on are you will undoubtedly see more. Travelers are limited by two things: time and money. You can´t do this forever (though you can work in hostels or volunteer and extend your trip significantly), so if you want to see as much as possible you have to keep moving. I met one American who in ten months of traveling had been to 32 countries. I also made friends with a backpacker who in three months had stayed primarily in Columbia in Bogota and Medillan. In the end it comes down to personal choice and preference. Do you want to see the world or experience a different culture? Not that you can´t do both. If a city strikes you then it´s not difficult to push back plans and stay. Maybe take a Spanish lesson (or whatever language for whatever country you´re in. Just, I'm in South America.) or dance classes. Something to immerse yourself more into the culture (my advice is at least try with the language because locals appreciate the attempt). If you find yourself restless up and leave and see all you can. Backpacking is a lifestyle of freedom. But what I´m finding through countless evenings of backpacking conversations with experienced travelers is most have a clear preference: stay or go. And I´m finding my preference is to stay.
So I stayed in Lima longer and am so happy I did. If you´re looking for the tourist bars you have to go to Pizza Street near Kennedy Park in Mirraflores. You´ll meet fellow backpackers and English speaking locals (beautiful English speaking locals). Decide if you´ll be enticed by the offers of free drinks or the more crass promoters who offer you pussy in loud unabashed English. Personally, I recommend starting at the end in the pub, relax with a beer or two, maybe make some new friends, and then hop from bar to dance hall and experience it all. Just be sure to make it out before three so you can eat, because right up the street is the best sandwich shop I´ve ever been to. Simple (bread, meat, cheese, sauce), cheap, delicious, and just what a late nighter needs after a late night.
What I really recommend, however, is make friends with a local. I was lucky enough to befriend a backpacker, Pri, who introduced me to his freind Dante, a Peruvian from Lima he´d met in Columbia. The usual with Dante was to go out into the city during the day and then meet up with his local friends at night. Site seeing, salsa dancing, gorgeous bars with multiple levels, and I even went to a baby shower. Yeah, a baby shower. Peruvians love to be hospitable and Dante wanted to hang out with us everyday for as long as possible. He never minded driving, translating, or answering all of our questions, and he made my stay in Lima. And as far as I can tell, all he wants in return is similar treatment if and when he comes to California. I am happy to oblige.
Now, as I said, Dante was always bringing us out with his friends from Lima, and anyone who knows me knows two things about me 1) I love to meet people and 2) I´m a talker, and the latter is where my greatest frustration lies. My Spanish can get me through the day, ask and answer questions about work, food, travelling, etc... but after that I´ve exhausted what I know and my audience moves on. This does not sit well with me. And there is only one obvious answer: lessons. For between 6 to 9 dollars an hour I can take individual Spanish lessons for either 10, 20, or 30 hours a week. I´ve decided to do this early in my travels so as to reap the most benefit. Also I have a small crush on a Columbian dancer/waitress I met in Cusco whose English is as good as my Spanish. Everyday we meet for a few hours to practice each other´s native language (mother language in Spanish translation). The rule we attempt is I can only speak in Spanish and she in English. We always break it, but we try not to. My pocket dictionary has become my best friend.
Well friends, thanks for following but I´ve been rude hogging the computer and it´s time for lunch and to plan out my next few days... Puno then back to Cusco? Site seeing the 16 Inca ruins? Macchu Picchu, finally? or maybe I start those lessons and stay in Cusco for a few weeks to a month? No se. But I´ll find time to write more and update you on Sandboarding in Huacacina, the 17 hour bus ride through the Andes, dance clubs in Cusco, hikes up the mountains and the ruins of Sexywoman (that´s honestly how it sounds), the necessity of sunscreen, and Peruvians love of classic rock and grunge (live bands in dive bars, and one of the singers did Eddie Vedder justice. Very impressive.).
Ciao.

The First Week of Many

I´ve been in Lima for a week now, and will have to stay until Friday to pick up my new debit card. I can´t wait to move on and start travelling again, but it has been a fun week. Below are the highlights.

Story 1: Monster City

The trip starts poor. Melissa, my traveling companion and romantic interest, changed her mind at the gate. There were several reasons for this, but mostly it was my fault. I couldn´t act like I was comfortable being just her friend and instead I acted like a jealous and frustrated suitor. It´s probably for the best she didn´t come since it´s obvious I have deep feelings for her, but even a week later I wish she was here. So I left for Lima heartbroken, lonely, and for the first time scared. I´d expected to travel the first few weeks in the comfort and familiarity of a friend and loved one. Now I was really on my own.

My connecting flight was in Mexico City and as the plane made it´s descent I glanced out the window. What I saw was astounding. El Ciudad de Mexico is home to 35 million people and nicknamed the Monster City. It was easy to see why. The sprawl began behind the few mountains (which looked volcanic, or otherwise sites of massive excavation) and then continued, and continued, and continued until the plane was over the airport and all you could see, in every direction and as far as the horizon, was the sprawl of the city. In the center was a strip of sky scrapers over a wooded street but there were outcroppings of similar buildings all over the city like patches on a worn quilt and each one declaring ¨the city continues.¨ I´ve never seen anything as collosus.

My flight from Mexico City to Lima was delayed, and two hours later it was canceled, the only flight that day. I ran back through security to the check in line. In the chaos that followed I learned how lost I could truly be in a sea of Spanish. It was over an hour before I overheard a word of English. ¨Thank you so much!¨ gasped the mother and I rushed over and asked what she´d been told. Apparently, if I was willing to come back the same time mañana I could catch the same flight to Lima. She helped me sign up and I tried to figure out how I would spend the next 24 hours. The airport hotel cost $190 (about 2600 pesos) so I decided to sleep in the terminal. My next move was to wander around looking for someone who looked like an Enlgish speaking traveller and that´s how I bumped into Devin. He was a student in Argentina after transfering from Penn State. We walked a little into the city for cheap tacos (2 for 10 pesos, which is a little less than a dollar) and he helped me brush up on some basic Spanish. At 11pm he left for his flight to Buenos Aires and I spent two hours trying to sleep on the cement steps/benches in the terminal. It didn´t work. I gave in and got an almost $200 hotel room, and you know what? It was a great idea. I was still heartbroken and lonely but after a very long hot shower and a night´s sleep in a king size bed all to myself I was ready to continue on. God, I felt great the next morning. That is, until I went to buy coffee and found that my debit card was denied.

I called the international number they´d provided me (which only cost me 5 pesos a minute from the hotel. For the life of me I couldn´t figure out how to use the calling card Melissa had given to me.) and found out that a fraudulent transaction had taken place in Hollywood while I was in Mexico. They denied it, refunded my money, but I couldn´t lift the hold on my card as long as someone else had the number. In the end I lifted the hold for 20 minutes, went to the atm and took out 4000 pesos (about $250. Also I need to note here that I didn´t exchange it for American dollars before going to Peru so when I finally found an exchange place that would take Mexican pesos they charged me a third of the money in the exhange. The lesson here is US currency is strong always so don´t take chances.). Then I boarded the plane and flew to Lima, Peru. I ordered a new card to be shipped to the hostel I´m staying at in Miraflores, Lima, Peru and after three attempts I´ll finally be getting it in two days.

Story 2: Lunch

I love menus. These are set priced meals offered for lunch that include usually an Entrada and a Segunda plus a drink (sometimes dessert is included as well). So far I´ve paid anywhere from s/7 to s/14 (about $3 to $5) a meal, but the first meal I had was the best so far (and only s/11).

The entrada was ceviche which is raw fish lightly cooked in a bath of lime jiuce (citrus acid) and spices, and it´s also delicious. The segunda was a meal of fried fish and squid covered in a buttery sauce and served over a bed of rice. It too was delicious. And the drink was Chicha morado which has become a personal favorite. It´s a corn drink that tastes like berries and has a thicker consistancy, almost like jello before it coagulates. The add cinnamon or clove and the effect is the drink tingles your tongue and better cools your mouth after a spicy meal. It´s really wonderful. It also happened to be a hot day, which they´ve almost all been so far (in the 80s and humid). I could tell I was getting sunburned and had walked for several miles exploring the area and working up a sweat. Obviously I needed a good beer and for only seis soles more I bought a cerveza grande (630 ml) that topped off the meal. I included a tip since the waitress was very patient with me attempting spanish while flipping through my pocket dictionary and still all total I paid s/20 (about $7.50).

Story 3: The Dead de Lima

My second day I went out with Natalie, an Ausy friend I´d met the day before, to the ruins of Huaca Pucllana and to the Iglesia de San Francisco. Both were inexpensive and well informed tours, though I´m not really a tour type of guy, but at the top of the ruins was a good view of Miraflores and in the catacombs of the church were thousands of skulls and femur bones piled in pits some of which were 10 meters deep. Awesome, right? But the two greatest take aways were an understanding that Peruvians respect their indegenous ancestry, from the Lima people, to the Waris who conquered them, to the Incas who then conquered the Waris, and that the Lima peoples´ view of death had changed from the indegenous belief that the soul was attached to the body to the Catholic belief that death releases the soul from one´s body. If the Lima or Wari people had been piled like those in the Catholic church it would´ve been a dishonor and an attempt to rob them of an after life. It was a fun contrast to discover completely coincidently.

Story 4: Water and Light in the City

If you come to Lima you have to visit the Magic Water Circuit. 2nd world my ass. Near the center of Lima is a new park of fountains that is sure to entertain all age groups. From ones you can run through (yes you will get wet) to ones you can walk under (no you don´t have to get wet) to ones of epic scale that grow and change and jump and dance. But by far the greatest show that evening combined the use of water and light. Lasers used the constant streams of water to project images. A large portion of this show was dedicated to several Peruvian dances and the dancers, projected onto the water, appear as ghosts in the mist. Worth the s/4 entrance fee and the s/10 cab ride I split with two others. Smiles all night.

Story 5: A Night in Barranco

This is a similar story to many we´ve all had, I´m sure. A group of us went out bar hopping. We hoped to find salsa but instead found LMFAO. I party rocked in Lima until the first of us fell asleep at a table and we all went home. It was a fun night.

Story 6: The Cliffs of Miraflores

My friend Hasib and I decided to walk to the water, which neither of us had seen yet, after a large lunch with a group of friends. We didn´t have our cameras which was dissapointing because it was the most beautiful day of the summer. When we reached the cliffs overlooking the ocean we were even more upset to have forgotten our cameras because everyone else in Miraflores had also realized it was the most beautiful day of the summer. But the images are burned into my memory.

A sky full of paragliders. For s/150 you can tandem paraglide off the cliffs and I´m considering it once I get my new debit card, but on this day everyone was coming out to ride the updrafts off the ocean. There must´ve been more then 50 of them dotting the sky infront of me. One more launched every minute. First the strap themselves in, then they open up the chute and heft it into the air, immediately the wind takes it up and they brace themselves so as not to leave the ground. They walk towards the edge of the cliff and sway and jump. They fall no more then ten feet before they´re lifted up, up, up and over the land again. It was an amazing site to see, and yet there was more to come.

Further down the park, for the cliffs are one giant park which I´ve yet to walk to the end of, a group of caballero fighters had formed a cirlce and gathered a crowd. Caballero is a Brazillian form of fighting that masks itself as a dance. During the time of slavery it was illegal for the oppressed African people to have a way to fight back so the practice of caballero had to be hidden. Using a stick, a string, and a stone to adjust the pitch and by adding clapping and hand drums the caballero fighters created musical instruments and then chants to play and sing and trick the slavers. While the slave owners saw only a dance the slaves practiced martial arts. The practice looks like two people break dancing, their moves playing off one another, but these moves are really kicks, blocks, strengething poses, and grappling moves. The group in the park this day were of all different skill levels and ages. A large man, 250 pounds easy, was capable of hand stands and flips. A young boy of around 9 could hand spring into a round house kick. And every now and then two equally matched fighters would actually engage and break from the circle to wrestle it out on the grass. Always the two opponents and friends would hug it out and return to the circle. But the most amazing thing was how the circle began as a class, all in the same uniform, and grew as more and more strangers joined, all of whom entered the circle and fought/danced.

The park continued and continued as we passed more groups of talented people. A skate and bmx park was filled with Peruvian youths jumping, ollie-ing, and grinding along rails, dirt jumps, and half pipes. A drum circle with dancers performed by the edge of the cliff just past the skate park. And other groups of mixed ages practiced break dancing and a form of martial arts involving rolling techniques.

The day ended with a sunset over the ocean and a sky of red and orange clouds in a bed of pinks and yellows. And I still can´t believe neither of us had a camera.

Story 7: Surfing in Lima

Miraflores is a coast of pebble beaches and small but steady waves. Surfers are always out and about and for s/70 anyone can get a surf lesson and 3 hours of rented gear. I went with a group of 4 and so we cut a deal for s/60 a piece. I was given a wet suit, booties because of the pebble beaches (though I wish I hadn´t so my feet could´ve felt the board more), and a 9 foot board. The wet suit was difficult to put on until an American intern gave us plastic bags to put around our feet so they would slip right through. It worked like a charm. Her name was Jackie, and she had a distinct Long Island accent so I asked her if she lived near West Islip where my cousins are from. Turns out she was from West Islip and used to swim with my cousin Olivia. Small world.

The lesson began with a short run and a series of stretches and then we formed a circle around a bench. Our instructor, Carlos, showed us on the bench how to lie down, paddle, grab the board and lift yourself up when a wave came so as not to get a face full of board or salt water, and most importantly how to stand up. The trick is to take your back foot and bend it against your other knee so that the back side of your foot is against the board. Then you lift your chest up like you´re practicing yoga and with your other leg you plant your foot in front of you and stand up. It is not as easy as he made it look.

The water was warm yet refreshing from under Lima´s hot sun. The wet suit was unnecessary. We paddled out and out and out about 200 meters or more from shore. One at a time we would lie down facing the shore until our instructor told us to paddle and then we´d launch into a furry of strokes as we felt the wave reach us and lift us. At the last moment our instructors would give us a push and tell us to stand up and we would react in a chaotic spasm, our front leg coming forward, our back leg bending to the knee, and then we´d stand and fall off into the wave. And this is how it went everytime for me, except once, when I listened to my teacher and took my time. ¨Chill, Etan. This is surfing. This is feeling.¨ I heard stand up and rather then rushing into an awkward position I slowly brought my back foot forward, lifted my chest, placed my front foot on the board, and stood up. I was surfing. I rode that wave all the way into shore until I realized the pebbles beneath me would hurt and threw myself off into five feet of water, hitting my feet on the bottom but no more. I think it´s safe to say I´m hooked.

All four of us stood up that day, but none of us could last three hours. After only an hour in the water we´d paddled ourselves into a comforting exhaustion. Our shoulders ached from paddling, our necks ached from keeping our heads up, and the next morning my back ached from lifting myself off the board over every wave. It felt great. I can´t wait to take up surfing when I return to California.

One more week (double checking and waiting)

I leave in a week and it could not come sooner. I've enjoyed being home with my pops, seeing old friends and old haunts, but with zero plans or responsibilities I feel like a kid again (especially since I'm staying in my Dad's house). So I've started going back to the gym, trying to get a routine going, and I've double checked I have everything I need for Peru and South America. And I do (well, I need to decide on a travelers insurance plan, and set up a google voice account synced to my mobile number. But I know how to do those things and am just waiting until I leave). So now what? Count down the days people. I swear I'm having trouble sleeping at night because I'm so excited to go. Alright, check list.

Ticket - Check!

Hotel near JFK airport for the night before - Check!

Hostel in Lima - booked my first two nights ahead of time. Check!

Cab ride to Hostel - I arranged for a cab to meet me at the airport through the hostel I'm

staying at. Check!

Gear - (see my video post. I've now also added better bug spray at 98% Deet and a quart size

ziplock bag of liquids including soap that will work as body wash, shampoo, and for my

clothes) Check!

Money - Debit card (warned my bank I would be traveling so they wouldn't freeze my account),

and $200 worth of soles (Peruvian currency) for when I first arrive which equals 490

soles at my banks exchange rate (it will be cheaper out of ATMs but I'll be charged

about $3 to $4 per transaction). Check!

Companion - well, huh. Originally I planned to go alone, and I still might, but there's this woman who might come as well. She's a friend but she knows I am romantically interested and up until a few days ago she was going with me, but I may have blown it. See, I've always been the aggressor when going after what I want but a man who's dear to me changed my mind and gave me a new perspective (a paradigm shift). He said sometimes it's better to let things come to you (well done Dad). So if she does go then it will be as friends and I know we'll have a grand adventure together. And if not, then lesson learned. If not then I'll go see all I can, experience all I can, and learn all I can, and then when I get back... well... who knows?