Makin' Converts

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On Wednesday, I found a bar with many large TVs and many channels, including 3 different Olympic channels, so when it came time for the Canada/Slovakia semi-final on Friday night, I knew where I was headed. I told a few people about it, and the event snowballed until a whole whack of us showed up for the game ("whack" being a scientific term meaning between 10-20 people, composed of 1-4 Canadians, 5-12 Americans, and 3-9 Colombians).

After finding a corner of the bar to settle ourselves, the waiter turned the channel to the women's gold medal curling match, which I had been watching while waiting for the others to arrive. This was instantly met with groans from the Americans, who requested a change to hockey. I didn't really want to argue with them, so I held my tongue, but eventually they realized there was no hockey on - the USA/Finland semi-final had been played in the afternoon, and Canada/Slovakia wasn't until 9:30. So eventually, when it became clear that nobody was paying attention to the TV, I sneakily got it changed back to curling.

At first, nobody except me was paying attention, but after a while one of the Colombianos got curious and started asking me questions. This led to the Americans tuning in a bit more, and making jokes about how weird/dumb curling is. Many of these jokes, while derisive, were actually in the form of genuine questions, and by being able to answer them, I was able to get the Americans truly interested in the game. By the end, they were fully invested and even sort of understood it, and since it was such an exciting game (by curling standards), I think I may have made some converts.

After the curling match ended, we had a short break before the hockey game started, but when it did, everyone was rapt, since that was what we had all come for. Once again, I was the focus of many questions about the game, though this time the questions came exclusively from the Colombians. And once again I was able to make a convert, my co-worker Mario, who was hooked by the physicality of the game. He didn't really follow the puck movement and didn't understand many of the strategies, but every time there was a bone-crunching body-check against the boards, Mario was on his feet cheering.

I'll be heading back in 2 hours for the final. GO CANADA GO!

The Canada Placemat

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On Wednesday, I went out for a couple beers, something I haven't done on a Wednesday night since... well, probably since I've been in Colombia. I went because there's a bar that I like that supposedly has live music on Wednesdays, and I was hoping in the back of my mind that it was an open-mic sort of situation and I could get up there and entertain the crowd by speaking self-deprecatingly terrible Spanish, regardless of whether they liked the songs or not.

The music didn't happen - apparently it's going to happen Friday, so this is just another example of "Colombia Time", when things start extremely late, sometimes days late - but the other reason I went out was because it was the quarter-finals in the Olympic hockey tournament, and I thought maybe the bar would get the right channel. Turns out they did! So my friend José and I sat down with a couple of Hoogardens (yeah, this is a very different bar from the usual places around here) and watched the 3rd period.

Our waiter, who was the guy who spent about 10 minutes trying to find the right channel, was great. Really friendly, constantly making jokes which I sometimes understood, and one of those people who physically can't stop smiling. After explaining how important the hockey tournament is to Canadians (comparing to Colombia playing in the World Cup really drove the point home), he disappeared into the back of the bar and returned with a placemat which was, yes, a Canadian flag. I was ecstatic, obviously. (He also pointed out the 2 "Canadian" dishes on the menu - this menu specifies the origins of each of its dishes - Canada is apparently home of the Turkey Sandwich (okay, I guess) and the "Picnic Sandwich" (what?). I told him that the picnic sandwich doesn't actually exist, which he thought was hilarious.)

Anyway, the game was 7-3 when we arrived, and 7-3 when the 3rd period ended. It's too bad we didn't see any goals, but Canada won, so I'm not complaining. Of course, nobody else in the bar was watching (except our waiter, whose interest had apparently been sparked by this Crazy Canuck, and every time I looked over he was fixed on the game, likely having no idea what was going on), but José and I had a good little celebration at the end.

The game put me in a great mood (that, or the beer), and on the walk home I decided that tomorrow in class I'm going to enlist my kids into making Maple Leafs to plaster all over the place. Semis on Friday, Finals (fingers crossed) on Sunday. And I now have a place to watch it. Can't wait.

Aside: José, whose English isn't very good, was telling me a story about some girl from Turkey who added him on Facebook. I don't remember his exact wording, but it was something like: "so a girl added me on my face".

Inca Trail Part 1: The Suspects

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Last time, I mentioned that I was late for my night-before mandatory meeting with the 16 other travelers and 2 guides I would be spending the next 4 days with on the Inca Trail, and I was worried they would judge me based on my lateness and the fact that I was carrying a tiny guitar. So, you're asking yourself, what happened, Dave? Were you completely ostracized from the group?

Well, no. But what followed was much more sinister than I feared or could even have imagined. Over the next few days I will take you through the mystifying events of my time on the Inca Trail, and it is my sincere hope that after all the facts are collected, we will get to the bottom of.... The Mystery of the Inca Trail!

(Also, I should note that it is almost definitely a coincidence that I read a Sherlock Holmes book during this journey.)

Anyway, the first step that must be taken by any detective worth his salt is to introduce the suspects, and this is what follows in today's entry.

Names: Oscar and Virgilio (Bill)

Age: early 30s

Relationship: co-workers

Nationality: Peruvian

Occupations: Inca Trail tour guides

Reason for travel: job

Names: Christy and Paul

Age: early 30s

Relationship: couple, unmarried

Nationality: Australian (Melbourne)

Occupations:

travel industry,

environmental scientist

Reason for travel: 12-month paid vacation due to economy

Names: Andrea and Mike

Age: late 20s

Relationship: couple, unmarried

Nationality: Canadian (Edmonton)

Occupations: event planner, Spanish teacher

Reason for travel: Christmas vacation

Names: Amelia and Lee

Age: Late 20s

Relationship: Couple, unmarried

Nationality: Australian (Sydney)

Occupations: Interior designer and plumber

Reason for travel: Extended vacation

Names: Jenny and Gino

Age: early 30s

Relationship: married

Nationality: American (New York)

Occupations: Financial stuff

Reason for travel: Christmas vacation

Names: Ronny and Bart

Age: early 30s

Relationship: buds

Nationality: Dutch

Occupations: Construction and re-selling

Reason for travel: Christmas vacation

Names: Jessica, Eli and Sequoia

Age: 40ish, 11, 14

Relationship: Mother, offspring

Nationality: American (Hawaii)

Occupations: Owner of natural food store, kid, kid

Reason for travel: Christmas vacation

Names: Richard, James, Geoffrey

Age: early 20s, late 20s, old

Relationship: Father, sons

Nationality: English

Occupations: English teacher, soldier, retired engineer

Reason for travel: Christmas vacation

Well, there you have it. 18 suspects, 16 travelers, 2 tour guides, and as of this writing, 0 motives. This is going to be a tough one to untangle - I can feel it in my bones. I think I'll have to sign off for the night - burning the midnight oil is never a good way to keep your head clear. Tomorrow we'll try to make some sense of all this.

Signing off,

Xerlock Xolmes

Peruvacation: More Stories From Days 3-5

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Today we'll wrap up everything I remember that's worth telling about days 3-5 of my trip, which were all spent in famous Cuzco.

I mentioned yesterday that I took a 21-hour bus ride from Lima to Cuzco, but I didn't elaborate on it. The bus was actually quite good. There were 2 meals (and I think other snacks were for sale), and there were movies constantly playing in the non-nighttime parts of the trip that were accessed headphonely in case you didn't want them to bother you. (The movie list, from what I can remember: Seven Pounds, Taken, Lassie, Nanny McPhee, Underdog. A bizarre mix.) Furthermore, the seats were very comfortable: roomy, with a high degree of leanbackness, and a leg thing that came down from the seat in front of you so that your legs were inclined at about the same angle as your torso. Like the Z-pattern, where ∠head-balls-knee = ∠balls-knee-foot. My grade 7s know what I'm talking about. I still couldn't sleep, of course, but they definitely did almost everything they could to ensure that sleeping was possible.

Well, except for the geography. Of course there's nothing they can do about that, but the fact that the bus meandered lazily down the coast from the time of departure (2PM) until 8 or 9 in the evening before turning inland and winding stomachchurningly twistyturnily, right when it was time to start getting to sleep, didn't help.

The Sechura Desert, seen before the turn into the mountains, and which I would encounter again at the end of the trip.

On day 4 I decided I needed a haircut. It was the first time I've ever decided such a thing while on vacation, but it turned out to be the first haircut I've been completely satisfied with (except when I get my mom to cut my hair) in years. The place was difficult to find; it was in a courtyard in the middle of a block (which were actually quite common in Cuzco), but it was worth it.

Here's a quick description of a meal I thoroughly enjoyed. I found a German cafe in the course of my wandering (which just meant it was owned by a German guy), and the menu looked pretty good, so I checked it out for lunch on day 4. The dish I got consisted of 6 or 7 different kinds of potatoes (Peru is known for its potatoes), as you can see below: the ones in the middle top and bottom are particularly weird. The sauces in the middle are guacamole and a sweet creamy herb sauce. Delicious.

On day 5 I went white-water rafting with the tour company that was soon to lead me on the Inca Trail. It was just one little raft, with 4 of "us" and one guide. The other adventurers were a British couple who were on an extremely extended honeymoon because they were forced to have like 9 months off because of how law school works in Britain, and a Brazilian guy. The Brazilian guy was supposed to send me pictures, but I lost his e-mail address. Oh well.

Anyway, it was great! I'd never been rafting before, so the whole class system didn't mean anything to me, and still doesn't really, because somehow I doubt the classification of rapids is consistent everywhere you go, but apparently it was mostly craftsmen and got up to merchant once or twice. Um, I mean it was mostly class 3 and got up to class 4 once or twice. Whether that means anything to you or not, I can attest to the fact that it was pretty intense. Nobody fell in, but it was not a gentle ride. And man, the others were in over their heads - luckily, not literally - but none of them had any idea how to use a paddle (when I say "others", fortunately that doesn't include the guide). The British guy (Ollie... of course) did have one redeeming quality, and that was his idea of how to approach the most intense rapids. In order to channel as much energy as possible into the furious flurry of strokes that were required each time we crested a big rapid, Ollie combined his strokes with a torrent of curses. Soon we all caught on, and I think it was pretty effective.

At some point, I asked the guide if he ever went swimming in the rapids, to which he replied: "sure, you can swim in the rapids!" Not really feeling like correcting him, I just said screw it and went for it. It was fun, but it was also really friggin' cold, because the day on the whole was cool and wet, and I spent the second half of the voyage regaining feeling in my hands and making excellent use of Ollie's strategy (and discovering that it works for channeling both energy and heat. This guy should be a physicist, not a lawyer).

The last thing I can remember that's story-worthy is the souvenir I bought myself.

This is a Charango, a common instrument in Peruvian folklore music. It has 10 strings (5 doubled), and the traditional way to play it is the well-known technique INFASTNITY. I haven't mastered this technique yet, though I've improved a bit from when I first bought it, and at the moment would probably put myself at the level of FASTNITY.

Charango Charlie with big brother Wally the Waldorf. Regular guitars are part of the typical Folklorica ensemble as well, as a matter of fact, so along with singing I could probably rig up a 0.6 man band. Wait, I don't think that math works. Here's a better way of expressing what I'm trying to say: a 1 man 0.6 band. Got it? Got it.

It actually took me quite a while to buy this thing, because I was an extremely conscientious and comparative shopper, something I usually am not. And because it was Christmas Eve when I bought it, the main square of Cuzco was wall-to-wall, so hopping between the two finalists, which were really not that far apart, took like 15 minutes each way. All this shopping resulted in me being 30 minutes late for my mandatory pre-Inca Trail meeting. I'm not sure if anyone else had been late, but either way I was the latest, and I felt like an idiot showing up so late, especially carrying a pretentious tiny guitar, kind of like when people carry annoying tiny dogs in their annoying tiny clothes. Personally, I hate when people are late for that sort of thing, and in that situation I'm the first to jump to conclusions. I thought that the other 16 travelers in my group would instantly judge me and I would be ostracized from the group for the next 4 days.

So, what happened in the end? Did I overcome my bad initial impression and win their hearts, or was it the most miserable 4-day-hike-ending-at-one-of-the-seven-modern-wonders-of-the-world in my entire life? Keep tuning in to Xave's Xlog to find out!

We'll leave you with some pictures of Cuzco to cap off tonight's entry. Click to embiggen.

The "Chocolatada" on Christmas Eve. Kids lined up and got chocolate.

Previously:

The Preface

Day 1: Travel

Day 2: Miraflores Slideshow

Stories from Days 3-5

Peruvacation: Stories From Days 3-5

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I'm not going to do a full re-cap tonight, but I thought I'd just share a couple stories from the second destination on my trip. After spending a day in Miraflores (a touristy suburb of Lima), I took a 21-hour bus to Cuzco, a city of about 300,000, the nearest city to Machu Picchu, and the former capital of the Incan Empire.

Arriving in Cuzco

Upon staggering off the bus around 11 AM after predictably not being able to sleep, a cab driver recognized my exhaustion and gringo-induced cluelessness, and I had no chance. He had me at "hotel?".

When I got to the hotel and was shown to my room on the 3rd floor, the altitude really hit me for the first time in my life. My apartment here in Barranquilla is on the 5th floor, and even when I walk home with a ton of groceries I'm not nearly as out-of-breath as I was climbing a mere 3 stories at 3000 meters. I acclimatized quickly, but that first stair-climb was definitely a shock.

Shortly thereafter, I headed out with the intention of finding Plaza de Armas, the city's main square, for some lunch and as a launching pad to the city's attractions. But the map I was using was just a little corner of a pamphlet from my hotel, and I ended up going the wrong way and quickly finding myself off-map. I walked around for about half an hour, taking wild guesses at streets that looked like they were about to become touristy. But none of them ever did, and this wandering around gave me the impression that Cuzco was much less touristy than I had originally thought, since I hadn't seen a single other tourist the whole time.

Eventually I found a little mall where I settled in for some lunch, which I'll describe in a moment, but first let me conclude my discussion of getting lost in Cuzco's nether-regions. After lunch I got lost for a little while longer, but finally I turned a corner and there it was: the Cuzco that all the guidebooks talk about. (It really was as abrupt as that - I couldn't believe the change when I turned that one corner. It sounds cliche, but it was the most extreme version of this phenomenon I've ever seen.)

When I discovered where that part of Cuzco was, I realized I must have gone the complete wrong way when I left my hotel in the morning and ended up much farther from Plaza de Armas than when I started. OR SO I THOUGHT. More exploration eventually revealed that the mall I ate lunch in was actually like half a block from my hotel. So I walked in a giant circle for half an hour, thinking I was going in the direction of the center of town. So much for my innate sense of direction.

Anyway, I wanted to describe lunch. I was in, as mentioned, a little mall type place which had a bunch of food-stands on one side. I didn't really know what anything was, so I just ordered something called "Chaufa con Tortilla", because I like tortillas, no matter if they were talking about soft tortillas or tortilla chips. Well, turns out tortilla means doesn't actually mean tortilla in Spanish! (Um, what?) But that's okay, because it means omelette, and I like those too. I figured out Chaufa refers to little tiny slivers of some kind of meat, and the dish named after it is basically fried rice with some veggies thrown in. And the omelette goes on top. But what made this meal unique was its sheer immensity. Look at this thing.

That is a veritable mountain of food. Or, to be regionally specific, that is a veritable Andes of food. I ate until I was fuller than I had been in years, and I only got about 2/3 of the way done. It could have fed 3 people, easily. And I think it cost something like $1.70.

Oh yeah, and I got a drink, too. Banana juice with milk. (That's what it's called in Spanish, but it's really just your standard banana and milk smoothie.) And, continuing the tradition, check out the size of this thing:

That's gotta be like a liter of drink. I honestly think this is the biggest meal I've ever attempted to eat (aside from things like buffets).

Okay, fast forward 8 hours or maybe 32 hours. On either day 3 or 4 I had dinner at a touristy place near the Plaza, and while sitting there bored I noticed another dude looking bored and invited him to join me. He was some sort of secret engineer who couldn't talk about his work (or maybe he could but just didn't want to, I forget), but he did tell me some other stuff, and this is the best story he had (and the only one I remember):

So I guess there are people in India who are considered gods. I didn't know this... maybe this was a serious gap in my knowledge, and if so, I apologize profusely for my ignorance. But I didn't know this until he told me. I guess the idea is that they're re-incarnations of Hindu gods. Anyway, this guy's secret engineer work takes him all over, including to India, and he went to check out a god's house, where 20,000 people regularly pray simultaneously. It turns out one of the guy's co-workers knew the God, so they got to hang out. Apparently he's "a pretty cool guy".

Okay, one more story before I go to bed. There's more to tell from days 3-5 in Cuzco, hopefully I'll wrap it up tomorrow. Anyway, on day 5 I had to get some things in preparation for my 4-day hike to Machu Picchu which was to commence the following morning, so I went to the mall which I now knew was only a few doors down from my hotel. Now, this was Christmas Eve, so the mall was packed. Especially with shoes. Look at all the shoes!

One of the things I needed was a sweater. I checked out a bunch of different stalls, inquiring whenever I found one I liked. One of the stalls was run by a kid of about 12, and he seemed nice, so after wandering a bit more I went back to his stand. But I wasn't just going to pay the 30 soles ($10) he was asking. Oh no. This is a bargaining culture, and I wasn't paying a dime more than 25 soles. So I told him that, and he said 28. So I said "okay, see ya later!", and walked off. I had only gone a few steps when I heard him call after me "okay, 25 is fine!" I returned, triumphantly paid my 25 soles, thanked him, and left. I haggled the #$@% out of that kid.

And this got me thinking: does this make me a bad person? I mean, anytime you say "I ____ed the #$@% out of that kid", that doesn't sound good. I think I'm going to hell.

Christmas Eve at the mall

Peruvacation Day 2: Miraflores

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I know I said I'd keep this updated daily, but I really do have a good excuse - I wanted to make a slideshow for day 2, something I'll probably do for many days of the trip when I don't have stories to tell, and it took me a while to figure out how to embed a slideshow exactly the way I wanted.

After arriving in Lima, I got a cab to the suburb of Miraflores, the most touristy part of Lima. My plan was to go to Cuzco ASAP, but after realizing that Miraflores is pretty nice, I decided to stay for a day, and here's some of the stuff I saw.

Instructions for watching: actually, this turned out to be pretty easy. The video is embedded in HD quality, so just full-screen it for the optimal viewing experience (that's the button with outward diagonal-facing arrows in the bottom right). You might also want to let it fully load before watching for maximum smoothness. And turn the sound up, there's music!

Previously:

The Preface

Day 1: Travel

Peruvacation Day 1: Travel

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Day 1 was mostly spent traveling - from Barranquilla to Bogota in the late morning (1.5 hour flight), followed by a several hour layover, and then a 3 hour flight from Bogota to Lima. After a mostly boring day, I got on the 2nd plane of the day, and discovered my seat was somehow in first class.

I have no idea how that happened - my first suspicion was that the check-in lady had bumped me up because I was a clueless gringo and she felt bad. But that story falls flat because I wasn't actually that clueless, since I've been living in South America for 5 months now, and my Spanish is actually kind of decent, but also, and more importantly, because when I booked my ticket I reserved the specific seat, so the seat I ended up in was the same one on the itinerary I had printed off ahead of time. But my ticket (and itinerary) said economy class, so I don't think I was paying for first class.

Anyway, it happened somehow. And it was great.

The seats were big and comfy.

There was some sort of buffer seat between me and the other guy in our row of 3. And there was, contrary to what the itinerary said (and probably contrary to what the lowly peasants got), dinner. And dinner was amazing. Here's what it looked like:

I wrote the exact description from the in-flight menu in my journal, but as you all know I lost it, but here's what I can remember: Lomo Saltado, a Peruvian dish of strips of marinated beef mixed with sauteed onions and peppers (which I would eventually decide is one of the best Peruvian dishes), accompanied by rice and potatoes, a truly delicious salad (from what I remember the deliciousness came from the dressing and those little cubes of cheese), fresh (well, okay, not fresh) fruit for dessert, a dinner roll, a personal oil bottle AND vinegar bottle for the salad, and a little chocolate at the end. Oh, and you might have noticed the FIVE pieces of cutlery. And finally, if you squint, you can see the glass of wine in the shadows on the right. This was on LAN, a Chilean airline, so of course the meal came with wine, and there was a choice of three, each one matched to one of the three meal options. These matches were made, according to the in-flight menu, but LAN's Master Sommelier, who was also referred to, I've just remembered, as "The Only Master Sommelier in South America". I don't know what it means to be a Master Sommelier, and how there can possibly be only one in all of South America, but it sounds impressive. (And the wine was delicious too, so I guess he nose what he's doing!!!!)

The other great thing about the flight was the music selection. There were around 10 radio stations, and the playlist for each one was printed in the in-flight magazine. Nothing particularly special there. But one radio station really stood out. "Radio Horizonte Chile" featured about 30 songs, and approximately half were from Indy Pitchfork-type bands. I wrote down the whole list in my journal, but again... okay, I'll shut up about the journal. Anyway, from what I remember, there was Vampire Weekend, Animal Collective, two Camera Obscura songs, Arcade Fire, and even Junior Boys, a fairly obscure Canadian band who I saw in Ottawa last summer at a show with about 200 people. In their HOME PROVINCE. What they were doing on a Chilean radio station, I have no idea. But it was great.

Arrival in Lima

Well, thanks for reading about day 1. I will really, truly, try to keep the trip journal updated on a daily basis from here on out, and if you want to read previous days' entries, you can always check down here at the bottom.

Previously:

The Preface