Acclimated

Phew. We have officially acclimated to altitude without dying! Told you living the dream is hard work...

Huaraz is a very interesting town. We're here in the off season so at times it seems like a ghost town. The culture, dress, amount of poverty, and accent are so different than Lima - changes as drastic as the altitude difference! I've become so used to the trash covered streets, pockets of pungent smells, and so many feral dogs running around. I've also become used to wandering up to our rooftop to gaze at the ominous mountain peaks we are surrounded by. 

I've been documenting profound moments of my trip when I've realized I'm most definitely in another country...so here's one  for the list. Matt, Rob, and I were trying to find a vegetarian restaurant that Rob was interested in checking out. With no posted street names and ambiguous maps, it's a wonder we can even navigate around Huaraz. Our directions took us through a rather dodgy part of Huaraz and we collected numerous stares from the locals. Two women passed us on the sidewalk who were escorting pigs to what I can only imagine being a not very pleasant place. One women was dragging a pig by it's hind leg while the poor little baconface was squirming for some sort of balance so its face wasn't dragging on the pavement. The other woman was whipping 3 pigs on their rears as she yelled at them to move faster. The poor little guys (shall we name them BBQ ribs, pork chop, and sausage?) huddled together and seemed horrendously confused about what was happening to them. At least they didn't have it as bad as their buddy, Bacon... 

This is a place in the world where animals are viewed not as beings, but as food/energy/sustenance. My original reaction to seeing how Bacon, BBQ, Pork Chop, and Sausage were being treated was overwhelming sadness and helplessness. Not too soon after, I began to realize these pigs have probably lived way better and healthier lives than the most of the ones in the US. This food source is sustainable in Huaraz, with a carbon footprint so low it could make the US's jaw drop. Shall we even get started on the pigs' amazing diet, size of their roaming area, or the lack of hormones in their systems?

That last thought was meant to be thought-provoking, not depressing. But just in case, let's talk about happier things. Rob, Matt, and I are beginning a 4day/3night backpacking trip at 6am tomorrow. We will be following the Santa Cruz Trek, which climbs up through the Punta Union Pass at 4750m. Just for some perspective, this is higher than Mount Whitney (the highest peak in the Continental US). I'm so excited for this adventure!

Alright, off to prepare for the trek and gather my gear. Check back in a couple of days for the next update! 

Man Down!

Let's have a discussion about altitude sickness.

Here's how to prevent it:
- ascend slowly
- stay hydrated
- don't do any strenuous activity within the first 24hrs at altitude

Here's what Matt and I did:
-went from sea level to 4000m in a few hours
- didn't drink enough water
- went on a strenuous trek the morning after we arrived in Huaraz

AMS (acute mountain sickness) has a delayed onset, which began kicking in for the both of us the evening we got back from our trek. We were both paralyzed with similar symptoms to the flu or food poisoning, roaring headaches, and literally no energy. We managed to get ourselves out of bed at 7:30pm last night because our nausea subsided enough that we could eat a meal. Oh yes, living the dream! Today was a little better. We met up with our friend Rob (who came surfing with us in Lima) for breakfast and walked around the town a bit. He reported having a similar day to ours yesterday- ha!
I'm amazed at how winded I feel just walking up the tiniest little hill. I've had a persistent headache and waves of dizziness. Although miserable, I want to stick out this acclimatization process because there are so so so many great treks around this area. Matt and I want to do the Santa Cruz trek - a 4 day, 3 night adventure in the heart of Cordillera Blanca. We keep postponing our departure date in hopes that we'll feel up for the trek. Wish us luck!

Humbled by Beauty

Oh so many adventures and so little time to tell you about them!

This update is coming to you from Huaraz, a place which Lonely Planet describes as: The mountainous region of the Cordillera Blanca is where superlatives crash and burn in a brave attempt to capture the beauty of the place. A South American mecca for worshippers of outdoor adventure, this is one of the preeminent hiking, trekking and backpacking spots on the continent. Every which way you throw your gaze, perennially glaciered white peaks razor their way through expansive mantles of lime-green valleys. In the recesses of these prodigious giants huddle scores of pristine jade lakes, ice caves and torrid springs. This is the highest mountain range in the world outside of the Himalayas, and its 22 ostentatious summits of over 6000m will not let you forget it for a second.

Huaraz. View from our trek today!

The drive to Huaraz from Lima was 8 hours long, and so incredibly beautiful. Along the ocean, through the desert, up mountains...oh wow. And I thought I was going to sleep and read the newspaper (To practice my espanol more) during the ride, psh. I was practically up against the window screaming about how beautiful it all was. I'm glad Matt shares my enthusiasm about this place because he probably would have killed me by now.
A guy from Lima, named Jesus, sat across the aisle from us. We talked with him for much of the way to Huaraz. That is, Matt and I talked in Spanish and Jesus responded in English so we could both get practice with the languages we were trying to learn. This guy was awesome! He was a mechanical engineer in Lima, and was opening up a few restaurants around Lima. We ended up going out to dinner with him once we arrived in Huaraz, just to continue our conversations. Another authentic peruvian experience...check!

I cannot even begin to tell you how nice it is to be away from the claustrophobic mayhem of Lima. I am

Matt and I at the beginning of our trek! Check out those sexy...MOUNTAINS!

having minor difficulties from the altitude and Matt is recovering from a knee injury... but yeah right like that was going to stop us from playing in the Andes! We set off for a long day hike today and just took in the landscape. We caught a ride to the trailhead with intentions of hiking back to Huaraz. We weaved through mountain roads, passing chickens, cows, pigs, donkeys, sheep and feral dogs along the way. We passed people's farms and huts. We passed women dressed in beautifully bright fabrics and tall hats, carrying bundles of sugarcane on their backs. Everything surrounding me today reminded me of a National Geographic photo documentary. The driver honked at his friends (basically every person) as we passed - suggesting how small this town really is. Nonetheless, we zoomed up these mountain roads at easily twice the posted speed limit, as calm and collected as could be.

Another view from our hike!

This brings me to a discussion about something profound I have been learning within myself. It can best be described as trust, but there are so many complicated layers to it. [Mom, stop reading here] There have been so many times I have seen my life flash before my eyes on this trip so far. Mostly it has been some of the bus/taxi/car rides, yes. I have put an ungodly amount of trust in drivers as they take on hairpin turns at uncomfortable speeds, bomb through 4 lanes of traffic, and pass cars on the highway even though there are cars in the oncoming lane. Despite what it sounds like, nothing bad ever happens. And then there is trust in people. For example, Matt and I arrived in Huaraz last night without any clue of where we were staying. With the help of Jesus (just the guy from the bus ride, guys), we left the bus station with someone who claimed to have a room for us to stay in for a good price. Sure, why not? We hopped into his dodgy looking car and then had to wait outside of the hostel until his amigos brought him the key to the front door. Matt and I exchanged looks, but it all turned out better than we could have imagined. For goodness sake, this hostel even has a rooftop.

Let's Talk Markets

When I was a child, my parents would sometimes take me to the west side market in cleveland. I remember packed crowds, shouting vendors, and beautiful displays of produce. There was a huge room full of meat that was fascinating to see as kid - yes, there was even a room full of live chickens! I could never figure out why my dad was in such a rush to get out of there. In hindsight, I failed to see the guillotine behind the counter and had a much different idea of what the chickens' fate would be. I don't think my younger self could have handled the moral conundrum of spurting chicken blood, and i don't think that would have been very fun for my dad to have to explain in a busy market.

The markets in Portland were quite a different experience. Saturday market was effectively a weekly craft fair; in reality it was the best people watching spot of all time. Face tattoos, live parrot carrying pirates, pot smoking bums (probably with trust funds), and hippies clearly on an acid trip were all too common in the crowds of yuppy, probably vegan, earth saving, outdoorsy portlandites. The tourists were the ones who stood out - they had no idea how to be a pedestrian around cyclists and probably bought out all of the booths selling tie dye shirts. I mean, that is only after they waited in an hour long line for a voodoo donut...
Then we have the farmer's markets. You could find one every day of the week, which I remember being a blessing on more than one occasion. Locals, looking as though they had just come from their daily yoga class, conversed passionately about urban/local/sustainable farming over the tables full of deliciously looking produce. They came off as the nicest people you could ever meet...which is probably true unless they find a recyclable plastic bottle in the trash.

And now I have officially experienced my first Peruvian market. Matt and I set out to explore the Gamarra Market this morning in which you could find any type of clothing, food, fabric, trinket, jewelry, or instrument you ever wanted. The streets were packed with thousands (if not tens of thousands) of people, weaving in and out of the shops easily covering over a dozen blocks.
Being on the street was distracting enough. The flow of people went at an extremely fast pace and vendors would run up to you with their goods or try to herd you into their store. Folks lined the streets with their respective trades, entertainers and artists alike filled intersections of pedestrian traffic. I would say Matt was approached, literally sought out from the crowd, about 50 times by people selling Lacoste polos. Clearly knock offs, psh. They would poke him with their business card, throw hanger after hanger of shirts in front of his walking path, and follow him for quite some time. Shall we say he was L-accosted?
Every once in a while you could get a glimpse into one of the stores and it went on forever, underground, 10 stories above...it would take weeks to see this place! Dodging children, brushing off persistent vendors, and hearing all the shouting, clapping, whistling, honking, banging, tapping was so overwhelming. Matt and I followed instructions to a cheap cafe - 8 stories above the market to escape the chaos. From there we could look down over the streets below - oh the colors! We could see much of central Lima - hillsides covered in rundown homes smashed together in what I can only describe as how barnacles look in a tidepool. I wish I had  brought my camera so I could better capture these scenes for you.

Today's experience at the market was one of the two moments I've had on this trip where I've truly realized i'm in an foreign country. The other being last night's sky with an unfamiliar orientation of the moon and the southern cross constellation I last saw when I was in Australia.

Organized Chaos and Hang Ten

My apologies for already falling behind on my updates. Matt and I have been thoroughly exploring Lima and there hasn't been a whole lot of time for writing. That's not to say we haven't given ourselves down time though. We spend hours every night on our rooftop - recapping the day, analyzing the city and the people, and just shooting the shit. There's been hours I've just kicked back while Matt plays the guitar - admitting to myself that I'm starting to fall in love with Lima a little bit. This is a city of ENERGY. On the streets, in the ocean, between human interactions.

As much as I comment on the chaos of the driving - nobody is actually angry nor getting into accidents. I reckon that Peruvians are in fact some of the best drivers in the world. The honking is a subtle language: 1 long honk to move along, 2 short honks to merge, 1 honk to let someone in, 3 taps to cut someone off or get someone's attention...I can only imagine the hilarity if I knew morse code.

I've been exploring different pockets of Lima just as much as I have the cuisine. Ceviche next to the ocean, pisco near Plaza de Armas, a most delicious unidentifiable Peruvian concoction bought for 1 sole from a vendor on the side of the road. Yes, my GI system is still in tact for those of you with skepticism.

There is no structure to the days - i've already forgotten the day of the week. I'll be quoting Matt again from our rooftop convo last night, "Shit. Every single day all we have to do is have fun." This is stressful, people! But in the best way possible. I have found myself living for the day more than any other time in my life.

That said, yesterday Matt and I booked our bus tickets to Huaraz for Sunday. It's time to move on from Lima. I can only imagine what the transition to the tranquil Andean mountains will be like. I'm ready.

While I was booking our bus tickets yesterday, I struck up a conversation with Rob, another backpacker fresh off the plane from Toronto. We convinced him to come surfing with us for the day. For 30 soles (about $11) you can rent a wetsuit and surfboard for the entire day from people camping out on the beach. Time to

Matt and I, headed in!

Rob, me, and Matt - living the dream

remember the pointers I picked up from my surfing lesson on Manly Beach in Australia with Corrine and the time I went with Hillary and Kai on the Oregon Coast! There was a moment when I finally paddled out through all the wave breaks and everything was so calm. I was laying on my board, staring back at the rocky cliffs of Lima, and just started laughing. WTF MY LIIIIIIFE!
It's so easy to forget how exhausting surfing is because there is no better feeling than riding a wave. I won't deny that I had my fair share of disorienting tumbles under the waves, but I really didn't mind. I was so happy to be in the ocean. I felt so alive! This feeling is still lingering with me today, and it's made for some of the best rooftop yoga sessions you could ever image.

Oh yes, the ocean still tastes salty. I checked.

PS I'm going to miss this rooftop so much

The Backpacker Mentality Part II

Not a lot of time now...but here's a quick blurb so I don't fall too behind in updating you on my adventures.

After Or left yesterday, I set out for a walk alongside the ocean and a quest for some bomb street food.

Mission accomplished. When I came back to my room, a new person was plopping their bags down on

Yep, the mighty Pacific Ocean

what was Or's bed a mere hours before. Let me introduce you to Matt, a 25 year old Australian who just arrived in Lima after spending the entire snowboarding season in Canada.

Chris was nowhere to be found, so just Matt and I headed out to Parque de la Reserva to see the magical fountain shows ourselves. Wow, it totally exceeded my expectations! Pictures below, and I think I may go back before I leave Lima. Matt shares a similar curiosity and love for water; proof being we both walked out of the park soaking wet.
We sat on our rooftop last night, wandering in and out of really fun and intellectual conversations. I think he has an incredible perspective on the backpacker life, which I like to think can be summed up in one quote:

"My friends from Canada like to say they'll miss me. No I won't fucking miss you! I'm just stoked that I met you!" - Matt

It took the sun rising for us to realize that maybe we should get some shut eye. Honestly, we both would prefer amazing conversation with other travelers than missing 'scheduled' ZZZZZZZZs. It doesn't really matter in the long run. As a backpacker, all you have to do is keep up with hygiene and hydration. You just eat when you get hungry, you sleep when you get tired. In many ways you become much more in tune with your body's rhythms because your actions are based upon your body's signals rather than a routine. I like this. I like this a lot.

The Backpacker Mentality

I'm starting to get into a "Lima" routine. Wake up, brush my teeth, get dressed, put on sunscreen, and head to Parque Kennedy for my morning coffee. Yesterday morning I was approached by a total of 11 school children, on 3 separate occasions in said park. They were set loose in Miraflores with a school project:  find a tourist and interview them in English. So, logically, they flocked to me. Their English wasn't all that great, so I started having fun by the 3rd group of kids. "What is your most important memory?" "Ah, yes. The day I found out I was a man." They just nodded and vigorously wrote in their notebooks while I had to sip my coffee in order to prevent myself from busting out laughing.
Once the kids left, a person nearby started laughing. "It's nice to hear some English, ay?" My friends, I introduce you to Chris, a 26 year old from London. We made small talk, and I gave him crap for having a giant bottle of sunscreen hanging out of his pocket. It's been a lot of fun to have someone to romp around town with and do touristy things. I'm thankful too, because I feel so safe traveling around with a male

Or, Me, Chris grabbing a bite to eat 

(feminists, interject with your rant here). If I were by myself, I sure wouldn't have spent last night drinking beer next to the ocean! It was so peaceful and beautiful. The sound of waves, especially when I know it comes from the Pacific Ocean, is so meaningful for me. Definitely the best night yet in Lima.

I wish I could bring my roommate from my hostel home with me! She is absolutely adorable and so much fun to spend time with. Or (Hebrew for sunshine, but pronounced like the 'ol' in coca-cola) is a 22 year old from Israel at the tail end of her 3 month post army holiday. For those of you who

Our room, located on the rooftop  at our hostel

aren't familiar with Israel's customs, they require their citizens to be in the military for 2 years after the equivalent to high school in the US. Most spend a bit of time traveling after the army and then start university when they get back home. At least this is how I understand it. She's headed back to Israel tonight, which I'm a little sad about.
We had a great heart to heart this morning about her feelings surrounding leaving South America, her travels, and excitement about returning home. How familiar does this sound: She broke up with her boyfriend when she left for her 3 month long trip to South America, but
they both understood that it was going to happen before they even started dating. She won't see him when she's goes home because she will be living in a different city than him due to the location of her university. I wish her all the best, and hope her 28 hours of travel home go smoothly!
We definitely have the coolest room in the hostel, which in and of itself is pretty sweet. It's just us in a 4 bed dorm, with our own bathroom that actually has hot water. We have an entire rooftop terrace to ourselves as well. It overlooks the streets of Lima and is a lovely place to hang out. I am most definitely going to be here for at least another night.

The view for the rooftop terrace and yesterday's sunset!

Or's departure brings up the discussion about the life of a backpacker. There is a very unique personality and mindset about backpackers that I also found in the hostels in Australia. Backpackers are the best at putting differences aside and truly living in the present. But there is also a toughness about them; a quality that you respect  rather than get intimidated by. I guess being a transient in the entire world can do that to you. Some people have been away from their friends and family for a really long time. Others are traveling for just a week and never come down from their 'traveler's high'.  I think the hardest part about being a backpacker is seeing so many people come and go. You meet people who you click really well with only to find that they are leaving the next day , or better yet, you just never see or hear from them again.

 Of course there are differences amongst backpackers: you have the partiers, the adventurers, the group of friends who travel together, etc. Most people are ages 18-26, I would guess. While this doesn't seem like a big spread, the maturity differences are astounding. But yes, ultimately things don't change:  The australians are always drunk, the french are always playing poker, and the canadians are always confused. While I'm not quite ready to summarized American stereotypes, I'm off have an afternoon beer with one of my Australian comrades...

Besos

Well, I successfully "hailed" a taxi yesterday afternoon for my adventure to San Isrido. On a related note, I also had my first successful haggling experience. I asked a person at my hostel how much a taxi should cost to the address I had so I don't fall victim to the all too common "gringo tax". 10 soles...good to know.
I didn't even have to wave for a taxi: they saw me looking at their car from a block away and pulled right up. They almost took out a pedestrian in the process, but I guess it's poor form to leave a customer waiting for an extra 5 seconds. Cool - being gringo has its perks.

Me: I need to go to San Isrido. How much?
Driver: 25 soles
Me: 5 soles
Driver: 15 soles
Me: 6 soles
Driver: 8 soles
Sold.

The taxi sounded like it may just fall apart at any moment into a car part garage sale. I don't know a whole lot about cars, but some of the sounds it made were definitely not normal. Sweet, I thought, an authentic Peruvian experience (as I promptly tightened my seatbelt)! Highway on ramps are whole new type of a terrifying. Drive on the sidewalk? Of course, there aren't any cars in the way. Take a right turn from the left hand lane? Who doesn't like a challenge? The car next you won't share the lane? Have one of your passengers bang on the other car.
For those of you who think i'm ballsy for my thrilling skydiving and bungee jumping adventures - let me direct your attention to the cyclists on Lima's streets. OMG THEY ARE INSANE! They weave in an out of cars, which already have the most unpredictable driving patterns. Their handlebars skim the sides of buses, taxis, cars on both sides and somehow they don't fall over. Too cool for helmets, these cyclists ignore traffic signals (not that the cars obey them either) and kamikaze their way through intersections somehow unharmed. If you were to stick me on a bike in these streets, I probably would sit down and start crying while wiping my tears with the broken derailleur (typical for most of the bikes here). But really, I probably would.

So why San Isrido? My dear friend, Elisabeth (who many of you know as Ebetch) has a lot of family in San Isrido. In particular, my mission was to smother her grandfather in lots of kisses, per her request. The entire family was so patient with my Spanish and I had SUCH a lovely time with them. Juan played the guitar and we sang for a while, we told jokes, we ate amazing food... truly an unforgettable experience. I love your family, Ebetch!




I visited with other travelers in my new hostel this morning. I'm considering a super touristy adventure tonight to tour "The Magical Circuit of Water" which is supposedly the largest water fountains compound in the world. Otherwise, this hostel supposedly has a bomb happy hour in which I don't intend on getting 'too happy' for fear of compromised judgement. (Yes, that last comment has questionable legitimacy and may have been placed solely for my parent's sanity)

Gringo Sightings

Knock Knock. "Katia? Sue equipaje ha llegado"

A miracle happened: my luggage finally arrived this morning! The receptionist at my hostel and the United delivery dude clearly did not share my excitement, and probably thought I was crazy for busting out my happy dance right then and there. The guy handed over a form that I needed to sign. I was too excited to figure out where to sign, so I put a big fatty squiggle on literally half the form. And I wonder why people don't like gringos...

I set out into Miraflores again today, with a Ms. Frizzle attitude about my Spanish. I bought some bread and a carrot for lunch - for a grand total of less than dollar. I scoped out some new hostels, avoiding the places with the already drunk Australians. I ended up booking 2 nights at a place called Red Psycho Llama - how can you go wrong with that? After all, the hostel I stayed at in Australia was called the Asylum. Hmmmm...I hope this doesn't suggest anything about my character.

Mondays are clearly different than Sundays in Miraflores. Not only were the crowds way less intense, but there were dozens of gringo sightings! I met a couple from Portland, Oregon while waiting in line at the coffee shop. We bonded over our exquisite Portland café palates and the familiar layer of clouds covering Lima today. Go figure.

I sat in Parque Kennedy again to enjoy my coffee and more people watching adventures. There are two that I want to share with you:

1) an obviously american tourist couple in their 60s walked by. They wore matching stupid safari hats with passports dangling around their necks. The lady was trying to take pictures while she was walking, nearly plowing over some toddlers on the sidewalk. The man had a guidebook out, and spun around in circles trying to orient his map appropriately. Once the lady finally stopped looking through the screen of her camera, she noticed one of the cats that inhabited the park. "ROBERT! LOOK! A KITTY CAT!" And then the couple proceeded to meow at the cat and make kissy noises. I tried so hard not to laugh. At least I wasn't the most obvious gringo for once?

2) A boy around the age of 6 was extremely intrigued by a sleeping cat on the sidewalk. My friends, I introduce to you the most tolerant cat in the whole world. The boy poked the cat and all it did was roll on its back and stick all 4 legs in the air. Unamused, the boy proceeded to kick the cat in the head (lightly, mind you). The cat just kinda twisted around, with its legs still in the air, into one of the most uncomfortable looking positions of all time. Nevertheless, it remained borderline asleep. Finally, the boy grabbed the cat's tail and dragged it across the sidewalk until the boy's mother started to yell at him. The cat continued its nap in its new location. That was until about 10 minutes later when a local dog walker came through...I don't think I've ever seen a cat move so fast in my life. 

It's now time for an adventure to San Isrido. Time to learn how to hail a taxi! 

A Day to Wander

I awoke to sunshine and honking vehicles this morning. And then it hit me: I have absolutely NOTHING to do. This was just as much a thrilling idea as it was terrifying, being in an unfamiliar city and all. I got dressed (not too hard to decide what to wear given my bag is still MIA), brushed my teeth (successfully resisted the temptation to stick the toothbrush in the running water), and did some yoga (namaste, peru).

I wandered around Miraflores for much of the day. I stumbled upon both produce and art markets. This was very intriguing until I started getting annoyed with the very persistent people yelling at me and wanting me to buy things from them. I am such a pro at saying "no, gracias"!
I found my way to Parque Kennedy - infamous for the cats that live there. I saw all of 3 cats...lamesauce. I sat on a step in the large amphitheater there so I could journal, enjoy the sun, and people watch. In reality, people just stared at me. On 3 different occasions, someone came up to me to ask if they could take a picture with me...which kind of made me start realizing how much I really do stick out here. Yes, I am way larger, taller, and whiter than everyone in this city...why thank you for bringing it to my attention. A passerby asked if I was French...well, at least they gathered that I was white?

My friend Jon mentioned he had some success practicing his Spanish with some locals in this park not too long ago. I need a new strategy because the only person to approach me was deaf. She was making her rounds in the park to solicit people for money in order to pay for her health care expenses so she could hear again.
Once my stomach started the hunger grumbles, I set out to find some food. I settled for some falafel which was absolutely delicious. I managed to order my entire meal with hand gestures because my spanish "had too thick of a mexican accent" for the server to understand. The family at the table next to me could not stop looking at me like I was friggin' art exhibition. I smiled back, but I don't think their intentions had anything to do with making me feel welcome. Whatever. I managed to order food without meat in it so I was as content as could be.


Exhausted from a full day of staying alert and communication breakdowns, I went back to my hostel. I took an unpleasantly cold shower and dried off with a super cheap shirt that I bought at a market today. I didn't feel like waiting for my bag (with my towel in it) to show up...if it ever does.

In other news, I think I found my new favorite drink. It's called Inka Kola and it tastes exactly like a pina colada flavored dumdum...my favorite!

I'm finding a lot of humor in my current situation, actually. It seems I'm realizing all of the things I take for granted by the minute. I find it funny to be reading a bunch of emails/messages from friends and family about having an adventure of a lifetime and envy for my travels when in reality I'm eating chocolate in my bed, writing a blog post about how white I am.

Sur-arrival of the Fittest

[I hope at least you bio minded folks can find the humor in the title of this post. That's right - I'm witty and punny as what]

As you may have now gathered, I have made it safely to Lima, Peru. Phew, what a long day of travel!

My plane rides were more or less uneventful. There was, however, someone in the cabin with a horrendous flatulence issue. I was prepared though; I recently spent 2 days in close proximity with my twin brother who rocks a strict vegan diet.
Somewhere around the Caribbean Sea, we flew over the most spectacular lighting storm! I watched in awe for a good half hour, but it only got better. Once we had passed the storm, there was a very defined wall between the ominous thunderheads and the most beautiful sunset. As I'm not a very shy person, I didn't hesitate to point out the view to the person sitting next to me (a retired engineer from Philly). He was way less excited than I was, but nonetheless interested. I know this because he offered to share his pretzels with me as we watched the sunset.

My day finally got interesting upon arrival into Lima. I made it through immigration quickly and wandered over to baggage claim. I waited, and waited, and then the baggage carousal stopped. Hmmm...interesting...wasn't expecting that. If you think trying to figure out what happened to your bag is difficult, try doing it in Spanish. It appears as though United thought it necessary that my bag stay an extra day in the US - typical. Cool, something to do tomorrow!

With only the address of my hostel in hand, I set out to find a taxi. Easy enough. My eyes were stinging with exhaustion because I thought it was a good idea to stay up until 5 am last night. However, there's nothing like a Lima taxi ride to wake you up! It's rather entertaining actually.
In theory there are 3 lanes of traffic, but it was more common than not for 2 cars to share a lane. No, the lanes are not any wider than they are in the states. It seems customary that the moment the light turns green, everybody honks. From the dainty little clown horn sounds of the mototaxis to the terrifying drones of the big buses - Lima's streets make quite a symphony. Most of the street lights have a countdown timer until the light changes, which I found to serve 2 purposes: when to begin honking and when a pedestrian's death sentence begins if they are still in the street. I was amazed at how good of condition the roads were in! But maybe this is because I just came from Cleveland which is effectively one big pothole.
In short, here is what I've gathered about how to drive in Lima:
1) never signal - just honk
2) stop suddenly and as randomly as possible
3) what speed limit?
4) point your car in the direction you ultimately want to go
5) do not obey any signs
6) accelerate towards pedestrians
Come to think about it....my mother meets the criteria for at least 4 of the above...she would make an amazing Peruvian driver!

My taxi dropped me off in front of my hostel. No, I didn't get robbed, raped, mugged, kidnapped, or stabbed. I explained to the hostel folks that I had a reservation for this hostel tonight in the best Spanish I could muster. The 3 'owners' looked at each other, shook their heads, and laughed. Yep, I am a gringo! It will be impossible for me to feel welcome at this place; I'm just thankful I feel safe. I'm okay being the butt of jokes - I can hold my own just fine. Let's be honest: I really am pretty freakin' white.

Pre-Departure Rambles

Holy beejeebees! Saturday morning's departure is fast approaching!

I figured I should do the stereotypical travel blog, but here are some disclaimers:
1) I have horrendous grammar and spelling abilities...my apologies. Just deal with it

2) I predict my posts will become less and less frequent as my trip goes on; this does not necessarily mean I have been kidnapped

3) I enjoy both sarcasm and the super mushy gushy cutesy stuff...be prepared for intermittent boredom

So now, for some background:
Not too long ago my best friend, Katie K, told me, "Dude, your life is on fire!" Why yes, it appears as though it is? I have now left my job (not too sad - I was ready to go), my boyfriend (absence makes the heart grow fonder? uh oh), and Portland (the most AMAZING city that has been my home for almost 6 years). While I should be in some form of emotional turmoil, I have way too much excitement about this upcoming trip to feel the weight of any of it.
It's rare that a chunk of cash and chunk of time exist simultaneously. With some preemptive planning and budgeting, I somehow made this trip a reality. I've rationalized this trip as something every 23 going on 24 year old has to do, especially before starting graduate school. However, we all know (and love, mind you) the part of me that is just downright batshit crazy. I'm so glad you tuned in!
Over the next 3 months and some change, I hope to travel in Peru, Ecuador, the Galapagos Islands, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina. We'll see how much of this becomes a reality!

I have appreciated much of the advice that I have been given over the past few months. I'll take this as an opportunity to share some of it with you:

1) "Yeah, you're most definitely going to get ripped off until you learn better... so? whatever." - Trevor aka T$

2) "You have blonde hair so you don't need to budget too much for your alcohol spending" -random waitress in Portland

3) "Kate, don't forget to say goodbye to your brother. You're going to get kidnapped and we're never going to see you again" - my mother

4) "Although there may always be things to be scared of on your trip, don't forget to choose enjoyment" - Katie K

5) "More knowledge to drop on your face. I'd try and pre-order some soles from your bank before you leave. Also don't get stabbed" - Jon

6) "Take chances, make mistakes, get messy!" - Ms Frizzle (you should feel ashamed if you don't know who ms frizzle is)

7) "You will find when you get down here that you need half what you brought and what you forget doesn't really matter" - Grant

8) "It may be difficult to get a llama through customs" - my dad

9) "Don't do things quickly...do things deeply. Give yourself the down time" - David

Flawless advice, team.

On a random packing side note...does anyone else find it odd that one of the side effects of cipro (prescribed in case of the unfortunate event of traveler's diarrhea) is in fact diarrhea?

Well that's all for now. Check back soon for the first official post from South America!