Thoughts of a Nomadic One

Written: September 20, 2007

I'm usually not a paranoid or anxious person. But after reading stories and warnings about pirate/kidnap taxis that rob/mug/steal from passengers, I was a bit on the edge. I think I get that side from my mom. After arriving at Ollyantambo, I hopped onto a bus expecting to leave immediately for the 2 hour ride back to Cuzco. I needed to be back early to catch some dinner and pick-up my luggage, then go to Terminal Terrestre to catch my bus to La Paz and my flight to Miami and home. I needed to be back home in time and get ready to start work Monday! If I missed any of those connections, I would be in trouble.

The bus didn't leave for 35 minutes due to 3 indecisive Japanese tourists and another bus blocking our path, unloading supplies from its rooftops. Honestly, nobody has ever heard me curse so much or so violently, chaining together as many swear words as possible. My heartbeat was elevated throughout the ride due to anxiety and altitude. Miraculously, I made it for the hostel dinner, picked up my bags and faced my greatest anxiety: the taxi to the bus station. After hearing stories of people driven to the middle of nowhere and then muggers jumping in to rob them, I was determined not to let that happen. I chose an official-looking taxi, confirmed the destination and fare, locked all doors. Throughout the ride, I was ready to unlock my door, open and roll out of it if it looked like I was getting out of town. When we passed through a deserted part of town, my heartbeat raced and I was totally ready but then I saw signs and recognized the way to the bus station.

1 more taxi ride to go.

The bus ride to La Paz was long and uneventful except for the border crossing. While this crossing took half as long as the Chile/Argentina one, it was more interesting because of its hilarity. Little boys with pens offer to help you with the 3-part crossing process (for a fee of course) and at one point I saw our driver give a bag of bread to the Bolivian guard who waved him through; that's how you get the express treatment. After walking back towards the bus on the Peru side after taking care of the Bolivian entrance visa, a Peruvian guard waved me into the guard house. "Oh man, here comes the bribe request", I thought. But I was mistaken, he checked through what I had in my pockets and money belt for narcotics and then thanked me, shook hands and waved me through, all without taking a sole! Unfortunately for the girls, I think their breasts were checked, for narcotics of course.

My last taxi ride from the bus terminal to the airport also gave my heart another workout. Halfway through the trip the driver indicated he needed more gas, turned off and went through some sketchy looking neighbourhoods looking for a pump. I felt suspicious and once again was in escape-ready mode. Fortunately, we didn't get much further out and he found a pump quickly. After a brief ride, I was at the airport.

Numerous posts ago in Krakow, I was with another Canadian who was on the last day of his his trip and I wondered how I would feel or how I would change? I thought of that again on the overnight bus.

How do I feel?

Anxious to get home, see family and friends. Anxious for clean machine washed clothes, my own bed/bathroom, familiar foods with stability are all things I look forward to. On the other hand, it's balanced out by fears: of monotony, stability, responsibility, relationships, mortgage, career.

How have I changed?

Other than being physically lighter and older, I am not sure how to answer that. Months ago in Palestine, my friend remarked that I was quieter, more contemplative and less anxious to please others. While that may have been how I looked at the time, that is a facet of my responsibility I've always had. One of my biggest issues has been how to unify my multi-faceted personalities and histories into my own identity. For so long, I have chosen to keep them mutually exclusive and nicely compartmentalized. In a way, this trip has helped me draw them together and be connected to my core identity. I have gained new perspectives on many issues especially many in my life.

I didn't go on this trip to seek a life altering experience or find the meaning of life. However, these past 4 months have shaped me. Other than being good at living cheap and having a good nose at not getting ripped off, I believe I've become more focused and aware. The diverse environments I have witnessed also gives me a more relativistic perspective on life. It's still too early to tell how this experience will mean to me in the grand journey of my life.

Though I may enjoy the stability and predictability of my life for the next few days, weeks, months or years. I do hope, perhaps in a little while, to be on the road, again.

Author's Note: There will be one more post to summarize my trip.

Written: September 19, 2007

Being at Machu Picchu feels like being in a distant land back in time and history, or a fantasy land. It didn't feel like that at first with the ridiculous legions of tourists each trying to snap as many pictures of the ruins and themselves. But as the afternoon wanes and crowds die down, the wonder and amazement sets in, especially as I write this sitting on a ledge overlooking the Inca city.

I arrived early from Cuzco to Aguas Calientes by a 4 hour train ride. After getting tickets and a bus ride, I entered Machu Picchu national park and feasted my eyes on the new World Wonder. Unfortunately, instead of doing the Inca Trail and arriving at dawn when the crowds of day trippers haven't arrived yet, my schedule only allowed me to do a day trip from Cuzco and in fact take the overnight bus to La Paz and fly out. This is the result of my extensions in Africa and New Zealand, unfortunate but not regrettable. It is truly amazing to see the structures and engineering work of the Incas constructed so long ago. Even in Cuzco you can see examples of their superior engineering compared to the Spanish. There is a joke from "The Motorcycle Diaries": In Cusqueña, there are two varieties of engineering: Inca or Incompetent.

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I arrived at the Buenos Aires airport about 5 hours early. In that time, I entertained myself by looking at the prices of airport duty free goods and the beautiful Argentinian saleswomen. The only incident to note was that at one point, a Chinese kid came up and asked me whether I was Chinese.

Me: No, Canadian ... Taiwanese!
Him: Do you speak Mandarin?
Me: A little, why?
Him: Can you help me?

He and his friend were going to Caracas via Lima but their flight to Lima was overbooked. Since neither of them spoke Spanish or English, they were pretty useless and clueless. Using my limited Spanish, I helped them confirm that they were indeed leaving the next day. Two hours later, one of them found me resting and asked me to help translate again. However, this time there was Chinese dude, myself, another man (who spoke English and could translate)and the airline staff standing in a circle answering/asking questions. We probably looked like we were playing telephone.

What really pissed me off the most was the ineptitude of the 2 Chinese kids who traveled without any knowing Spanish or English. At one point one of them asked me, "How come they don't have Chinese translators?" I briskly replied, "Because English is the world language and you don't even know that!"

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After sleeping in the Lima airport on the mat provided by London Heathrow Airport, I took a flight to Cuzco in the early morning. My eyes hurt but I wasn't sure if it was from tiredness or air pollution. I spent half the day running around to get tickets to Machu Picchu and ensure that I arrive in La Paz in time to fly home. I then spent the rest of the day getting familiar with Cuzco and going to bed early. Unfortunately, the headache I was developing from altitude sickness assaulted me all night and it was only after chugging 1L of water and 2 ibuprofens later that I felt better. Being at 2500m really takes it out of you. Your body feels tingly and you get out of breath really quickly. It was also discouraging and humorous to see see the locals just strolling or running the steep roads.

Cuzco is amazing. Even with all the tourists, you can't help but feel transported back in time. Locals wear their distinctly patterned Alpaca-wool made clothes. Some of the older women wear Bowler hats on top of their braids. This tradition originated when a European shipment of Bowler hats were given to locals since they were too small. I didn't get to take a lot of pictures but was greatly reminiscent of the end credit scenes of The Motorcycle Diaries.

In Cuzco, I walked around the Inca walls, the 12-sided stone, checked out the cathedral that had a very interesting version of The Last Supper. I suppose even religion isn't above advertisements as a big juicy cuy (Guinea pig) was the centerpiece. Imagine the captions: "Jesus goes to Casa Mama and has cuy with his mates when he celebrates! Where do YOU go?"

Headed to La Paz tonight and then flying home. Only 3 more taxi rides away from safety!

Ciao!