Tub Thumping kind of life

"I get knocked down, but I get up again

you're never gonna keep me down."

Three attempts in, finally sitting in a taxi chatting in broken Spanish with the driver when a song I actually recognized come in through the radio.  Chumbawamba's Tub Thumping.  I found myself smiling and surprisingly, disproportionately happy at the sound of this old, cheesy, high school-era song.  It was that moment I realized my whingy cranky moods had lifted.  My last week in Peru has been chock full of mistakes and bits of bad luck/poor planning.  I apologize to those of you who've had to listen and console me so much. I don't enjoy being a debbie downer, but sometimes I just can't help it.  My last week in Peru had its fair share of mishaps and bouts of poor planning, that all started with Penis Man.  After that situation, I got to leave Cuzco for a bit and I was off to the jungle.

The jungle was great, but that's for another post.  After making it home from the jungle, surviving the 12 hour precarious drive, I think I was taking things a bit for granted.  A new housemate asked me to take some money with me to the office to change into soles for her.  I was already going there, so I was happy to help out.  She handed me a $100 bill and we were off.  When we arrived at the office, I went to grab the bill to change.  And it was gone.  (1) Somewhere in the 20 minute walk with hundreds of other people on the street, I managed to lose $100.  Don't know how, scoured the streets on the way home to see if by the grace of god the wind blew it in a direction that people didn't see.  No dice.  I had to go to my bank account and pull out my LAST $100 to give back to my housemate.  It was rather depressing and embarrassing. I could hear the response I would get "Kassi, you shoulda been more responsible."  It stings still, just because I had been so careful with my budget.  It was tight but I had it all planned out perfectly.  Losing that $100 hurt.  A lot.

(2) Later that night, as I was packing and getting ready to take my night bus to Arequipa, I double checked my ticket only to realize I had booked it for the 13th and not the 12th.  Oops.  My roommates were happy that I was able to stay another night and go to the volunteer party.  I was more than happy to hang out with them, but not so happy to pay for another night's accommodation.  Our house was $20/night....very steep by Cuzco standards.  Without much other choice, I dressed up and went to the party with my housemates. While gearing up for one last night out in Cuzco, for real this time, I started feeling really weak and my stomach was cramping a bit.  My stomach had been a bit upset for a few weeks, but the previous few days had become more difficult to manage.  I decided it was best to go home and get some rest.  In the morning, (3) I broke down and called the doctor.  I was trying to hold off, assuming it would fix itself when I got home.  But on the off chance it didn't clear up, going to the doctor in the states would be not only expensive but probably a pain.  Turns out, I had a parasite.  I think I had a parasite since we went to Macchu Picchu, but the antibiotics I took for a sinus infection killed the good bacteria in my intestine which allowed the parasite to run rampant in me.  The doctor gave me a prescription for ant-parasite medication.  Anti-parasite is apparently expensive, (4) costing me all the money I made by selling my Peruvian cell phone and my sleeping bag.  Cuzco started to seem like a black money hole.

Thankfully I was on my way out.  If I had stayed in Cuzco, who knows what would have happened.  I did manage to get on my overnight bus thankfully, and it should have been an omen.  It was so nice.  It felt like luxury after the bus ride back from the jungle.  I fell asleep before we even left the bus station.  Once in Arequipa, I took a taxi to my hostel (which I was overcharged for obviously). I tried to find a two or one day tour of Colca Canyon.  I quickly learned that I would not be able to afford the two day trip. Instead I signed up for a one day trip.  Unfortunately, a few hours later I realized I couldn't afford that either and cancelled the trip. I was a bit depressed and whiney last night, I had been looking forward to the Colca Canyon since I got to Peru.  However, I met two Canadian girls who did the one day tour and hated it.  They said it was the worst tour they'd done in South America.  Seems like the first turn in  my bad luck!

Today I booked a hostel in Ica and my bus from Ica to Lima.  Both for really good prices (and I was able to put it on my credit card).  I was taking a risk with my bus to Ica that leaves tonight.  Online it says they have seats for $59 soles, but all the agencies here were saying that they were $81 soles.  Apparently the 59 soles is a promotion.  I tried to order it online but you have to order tickets online at least two days in advance.  I tried finding a place that could access the promotion, but no luck.  My original plan was to go to the terminal a bit early and just buy the ticket tonight  for 59 soles.  However, with my recent bout of bad luck and poor planning, I was a bit nervous.  I decided the best thing to do was go to the terminal today, but I didn't want to pay nearly 20 soles for the round trip.  I had to bite the bullet.  I was able to get a taxi  to the terminal for 4 soles!  I bought  my ticket (on my credit card!) and then used my superior Spanish negotiating skills to get a taxi to take me back for 4.50 soles!!  Sweet.  It was in the taxi, as I was chatting away in Spanish about how I don't have any money left on my trip that Tub Thumping came on the radio.  Seemed only appropriate.  I managed to get all my bus and nights paid for and organized after feeling like quite the failure this week.

You're never gonna keep me down.

Penis Man

Just before leaving for the jungle, Alejandra and I went out with some friends and housemates (our "family group" was mostly out of town at this point).  It was a very enjoyable night.  We had wine and cheese on the roof while listening to Rodrigo y Gabriella and chatting with the new housemates.  Later we went to the Reggae bar, and even that was more enjoyable than I expected.  I expected a bar full of hippies smoking weed.  That's exactly what I got...but it also came with a drink, good music and even better conversation.  There was even a pretty awesome live Reggae band with a very impressive bongo drummer (I've always had a thing for drummers).  Around 3am, Aleja, Ted and I decided to call it a night.  Following the quit while you're ahead principle.  While walking home, a man on the street, who we hadn't hardly noticed suddenly grabbed Aleja's hand and tried to yank her toward him.  She ripped her hand away, and he came back and grabbed her ass.  That's when we turned around and noticed his penis was hanging out of his pants.  Yup.  Penis.  We stared a bit dumbfounded for what seemed like longer than we should have (though I'm sure it was only a second or two), decided this guy was crazy, turned, linked arms and walked a bit faster toward our house.  About 2 blocks later, I suddenly feel something touching my ass.  I screamed.  I screamed bloody murder.  I screamed as hard and loud as I screamed when I was in 4th grade and Kim Metzger's mom wore a halloween mask in the window.  When I screamed and jumped away from the whatever it was that was touching me, Aleja screamed and went weak in the knees.  I was trying to keep her from falling, run away, and look back to see whatever was touching me at the same time.  Turns out, it was Penis Man followed us. Once Aleja was on her feet again, I turned to the guy, the closest I've come to ever fighting someone.  Fortunately, he wasn't trying to attack us with the intention of following through.  More like a crazy exhibitionist.  When I turned on him he backed off quickly.  I was't prepared to chase him down. I threatened him in Spanish instead, though I felt about as threatening as a kitten. He just winked at me and played with himself.  Angry and frightened I grabbed Aleja and Ted and we practically ran home.  We ran into some police a few blocks down and told them about Penis Man, hopefully they were able to find him before he attacked anyone else.  


A lovely (supposed) last night out.

You can't talk bad about Macchu Picchu

I climbed up Macchu Picchu a few weekends ago.  And I hated every minute of it.  Macchu Picchu itself was obviously beautiful and wonderful and astonishing and all that, but getting there was even harder than I expected, and I expected it to be freaking hard!

We left our hostel at 4:30am, a half hour early because they promised us sunrise on top.  About 5am we made it to the gate at the base of the mountain.  From that point on it was stairs.  2 foot stairs up for 400 meters.  It didn't take long for me to feel like I was dying.  I quickly fell behind my group, which was better than the humiliation of them waiting for me over and over again.  One housemate, Alejandra, stayed behind with me and told me to shut up every time I said sorry for being slow.  About half way up, our tour guide was waiting for us with the girls in the group.  The guys had continued on.  He said we were only 20 minutes from the top.  I assumed that meant 20  minutes at his Peruvian pace.  I convinced Alejandra not to wait for me at that point.  Instead, Monica, who had kept pace with the others most of the way was starting to feel the effects of the flu she had had the few days prior to the trip walked with me.  We worked together to get up the mountain....cussing it out the whole way.  Incas, while an intelligent and advanced civilization, are not my favorite people.  Around 6:30am, Monica and I finally made it up to the top.

We were working so hard to get to Macchu Picchu, we were so excited (in our exhausted state) to finally reach the top!  Only to break through the tree line to find the bus stop.  In hindsight I suppose its kind of funny to expect to break through and be atop MP.  But that's what we were expecting.

Finally with our group again, we all sat down at the bus stop and ate our well-thought-out-packed-lunch (at 6:30am).  Guess we didn't think it out that well.  MP has a concession stand, but just like concession stands all over the world, its exorbitantly priced and we wanted to avoid having to buy food there.  After morning lunch we went into MP.  And it was magnificent.  We didn't have a guide at that time (he showed up in the afternoon) so we didn't really know much about what we were looking at.  Our escort for the weekend (not really a guide) rushed us over to Hyanapicchu to start on that climb.  I kept telling my roommates that I didn't think I could do it, that I didn't want to do it.  And they all wanted me to go for it.  Total peer pressure.

I started Hyanapicchu with a bad feeling, and was unable to shake that feeling the entire way up. It was so freaking hard.  It was stairs like Macchu Picchu, but narrower, steeper, and all on precarious cliffs.  Monica stayed with me again, encouraging me.  At some points I would walk up three steps and have to stop.  It was like hiking while hyper-ventilating.  A few times I had to stop and have a little break down.  It felt very very similar to my first cross country race, if you know that story.  I had a whole team of friends waiting for me, who were proud of me and cheering me on.  Which is both heart warming and humiliating.  It is so hard to deal with that kind of emotion.  You are grateful for their support and know they just want you to succeed and are proud of you.  And yet, at the same time, it feels degrading and humiliating to need it.  What this trip did for me was knock any kind of pride I had straight out of me.  A very humbling experience.

It took nearly two hours to make it the 300 meters up Hyanapicchu.  The top of the mountain was like a cruel joke.  Every time you think you're there, you find another set of giant scary stairs.  One of the last false finishes led me angrily take a seat and yell out "oh, F no.  F that."  Much to the other climbers delight or dismay.  Finally after many false finishes, we heard our housemates calling us from far above.  We finally found them.  To get to them we had to crawl through a tunnel where we had to take our packs off our back to slide through the muddy crevice, then climb a ladder up what were just giant boulders, balanced atop the mountain.

I had finally made it.  My housemates were proud.  Unfortunately, even though I logically knew I would regret it, I could not bring myself to enjoy being up there, I kept thinking about how hard it was going to be to get down.  Down is always harder than people expect.  Monica snapped one pic of me sitting on the boulder, but I could barely manage a smile.  It's annoying when your emotions over rule your logic. I have to say, I don't think this happens that often to me, but in this instance it did. I was so pissy and negative.  I'm sure I was a joy to be around.  After about 15 minutes on top, I convinced my housemates that it was time to go.  We started making our decent which took about 45 minutes.  The cruel kicker is that when you get to the bottom, you have to go back up a bit to get to Macchu Picchu.  Not all that much, just enough to  make me curse out the Incas a bit more.

Feeling like we'd been climbing all day, we realized it was only about 11:30am.  We went out to the overly priced concession stand to buy lunch.  Suddenly we didn't mind paying 20 soles (about $8) for a water.  After lunch our guide showed up and we had a two hour tour of Macchu Picchu where they shared the history and all that, which I previously posted. We left MP around 3:30 and had to walk back down the mountain to Aguas Calientes.  I was a bit demanding and told my roommates there was no way I was going to take the stairs back down.  We weren't in a hurry (our train didn't leave until 9pm) so I was going to walk down the road the buses take.  It was an 8km (about 5 miles) walk zig zagging back and forth, but completely worth it for the sake of my knees and quads.

We got back to Agus Calientes around 4:30pm, exactly 12 hours after leaving.  We collected our things, had a nice dinner, when waited for our train.  We had to take a train to Ollytambo where we were taking a bus back to Cusco.  Our train arrived at 11:30pm, and we found our bus easy. However (as a side story), there were 4 English girls who were not with our group, but apparently had signed up for the exact same tour.  They were on our bus and our train, they were at MP, they were on the train back, and they got on our bus back to Cusco.  Until the lady in charge of the bus KICKED THEM OFF.  Apparently, she had sold their tickets to 4 random Peruvians.  Their Spanish was pretty good, and they tried to reason and argue with her.  But she wouldn't listen and literally slammed the door in their faces.  All of us stuck on the bus, unable to do anything (later we realized that we could have had the two guys and two of the girls get off and give them our seats, at least that would be safer.  But even then, there's no way to know if we'd have been able to make it back to Cusco that night).  It was nearly midnight and this lady stranded 4 innocent girls in this tiny town that maybe would have had one hostel...if it was open.  Probably not even a police station.  I was sickened by this women.  I really really hope that karma comes and bites her in her ass.  The happy ending to the story is that we ran into those English girls on the street in Cusco a few days later.  They said they managed to convince the last bus leaving to let them sit on the floor.  They went back to their travel agent who booked the trip and his response was "well those kinds of things happen here."  At least they made it home.

We finally made it home around 2am, after the stupid lady wouldn't drop us off at our house and made us walk 15 minutes home.  Even more intense shit happened when we got home.  After being out of contact for the weekend, Monica, the same girl that had stayed with me for most of the hike, received a text message that one of her best friends back home had passed away.  The 7 of us sat in the hallway and tried to comfort her as best we could.  It hit me kind of hard.  I have a tendency to imagine what if someone I loved died while I was away (morbid I know) and it didn't take much for me to realize that that could have been any one of us who got that message.  To Monica's credit, she's a trooper.  This isn't the first of her friends to pass, and she has handled it better than I ever could have.  We found out in the morning that her friend died of Sudden Cardiac Arrest.  The same thing that killed Sara.

I went to bed grateful for everyone in my life, and grateful that I had the chance to experience something as amazing as Macchu Picchu, even if I hated most of the day.

A Cusco Beating

I will finish writing about Macchu Picchu.  There is a lot more story to tell about that.  At a later date.

This weekend we lose 6 roommates.  Thats about half our house!  I've become very close with them and am sad to see them go.  As it's been there last week, its been a big week.  We had our normal Wednesday night burgers, and Thursday we had a "weird food night."  We went to a local restaurant and ate what the locals eat...guinea pig, alpaca, and cow heart.  I didn't really care for the guinea pig, alpaca was good, and I surprisingly had a hard time getting over the fact that I was eating heart.  I'm not usually one to be squimish about those things.  Thursday night, after dinner we went to the discotecas.  It was a good night, but by the end I was a bit cranky and ended up walking home.  Alone.  (sorry mom).  Nothing happened.  I still had my wits about me enough to sense danger.  A Peruvian man escorted me for my safety part of the way.  But once he started kissing my fingers I thought I best finish the trek on my own.   It was fine.  I walked quickly and there was no one else on the street.  That being said, I'm not about to take that risk again.  When I was about at the corner of my street I heard a group of boys.  I don't think they even saw or heard me, but seeing them was enough to scare the shit outta me and I sprinted the last block to my house. 

Last night was our official send off for the roommates.  We hung out at the house, then we were off to the discotecas again.  On the way there I didn't see one of the missing cobblestones in the sidewalk and rolled my ankle.  Pretty badly.  We continued on to the club, I was hoping I could just dance it off with the help of some alcohol to numb the pain.  It worked for a little while, but by the time we hit the third club I was in some pretty serious pain.  Walking was a challenge and dancing a near impossibility.  I eventually and reluctantly gave up.  Monica, one of the girls in the house offered to go home with me.  I was really disappointed to leave early, it was definitely my favorite night out so far.

Today my ankle look like there's a tumor growing off the side of it.  I've been icing it on and off all day.  But I did manage to get my shoe back on to go to a Cusco vs. Lima soccer game!  I can honestly say that I never thought I would end up at a soccer game in South America.  Ever.  I'm glad I went, I got to see a new side of Cusco.  A much more lively side.  Usually what I see are very sad people on the streets, or very shady people trying to take advantage of tourists.  I feel like a better glimpse of what its like to live in Cusco.  At least for those people who watch soccer.

We had to take two taxis there, so our group got split up.  The stadium was a mad house, there was no way we were going to find our other friends (none of us have Peruvian cell phones).  So we bought our tickets, got in line and went in.  Unfortunately we were on the wrong side.  We walked in the Lima side.  the stadium is fenced off, so you can't just walk to the other side.  The away team is fenced in with barb wire and numerous police in full riot gear! There are also police in riot gear on the field.  Whenever the players go on or off the field the police create a line and hold their massive shields above there heads to protect the players and the refs. 

We quickly learned why there was so much police action.  The super fan section for the Lima team was insane.  INSANE.  They were jumping, shouting, singing, waving their shirts over their head, and setting off cherry bombs for the entire game.  Yea, that's right...cherry bombs!  They would clear a little circle, set off the bomb in the center, then jump around in the smoke. It was strange and also scared the piss outta me every time!  At one point there was a fight.  (why there was a fight when they were all Lima fans, I don't know).  But the police jumped into action, they grabbed some guy by the neck and dragged him down the stairs, then they slammed him into the concrete and hit him a few times with their billy clubs.  Gotta love cops.  It was really disconcerting to watch.  I was not comfortable with it.  The other people in the mob started dispersing after that and things calmed down thankfully.    Later when Lima scored a goal, I looked straight over to that section and saw all the women and kids running away from them.   

We decided it was in our best interest to leave a few minutes before the game ended.  Lima was about to lose and we were on the wrong side, we needed a taxi and I was a gimp.  So we left about 5 minutes before it ended, which worked out pretty well.  As we walked through the gravelly grassy area outside the stadium, my roommate Madi, who was wearing flip flops, accidently stepped on a stick with one foot, and then proceeded to get that stick stuck in her other foot.  Badly.  We thought it was stuck in maybe a half an inch, so we were just going to help her limp home and painfully dig it out.  A few steps later she had to take her flip flop off because it was bothering her and then she noticed that the stick was nearly sticking out the other side of her foot!  It was about 2 inches long.  We went staight to the hospital.  (and thank god we left early cuz it was difficult getting a taxi, I can't imagine how it would have been with the other thousands of people from the stadium out there).  When Madi got back from the hospital she said they numbed her foot, cut it open, got the stick out, and stitched her back up.  All for 20soles (about $8).  Cusco has a way of beating you up. 

That was my weekend, and its only Saturday!  Right now I'm sitting in Alejandra's room while she writes in her journal and Jesse uses my computer to edit his photos.  Still loving our little family.  Tomorrow we've decided to take a day trip to Pisac, a small town in the Sacred Valley.  One last family outing!

Goodnight!

The lost city of the Incas

I'm going to break up the tale of Macchu Picchu into a few different posts to make it more palatable.  It was quite the trip.  I'm going to skip over the chronological run down and start with the history of Macchu Picchu that we learned from our tour guide.  

As we were walking up to Macchu Picchu and dying and wondering why the hell they would build on top of the mountain....our guide explains that Incas built it on top as protection.  Anyone wanting to invade would have to climb the mountains from the Rio Urubamba.  Because of that, the Spaniards never invaded Macchu Picchu, they didn't even know it was there.

The Inca empire was pretty much the whole west coast of South America, with Cusco in the center as the capital.  All roads lead to Cusco.  When the Spaniards invaded and the last Inca king staged a revolution, the people of Macchu Picchu slowly abandoned it to make way toward Cusco to fight in the revolution.  Unfortunately, the last Inca king was captured and publicly murdered, effecting killing off the Incas.  Inca was a monarchy, so when the last Inca king was killed, there were no more kings, therefore no more Incas.

In 1911, a guy named Bingham from Hawaii decided to try to find the lost city of the Incas.  He knew that all civilizations are built near water, so he followed the Rio Urubamba, eventually meeting a local man who didn't know about the lost city, but knew about Macchu Picchu.  He took Bingham to the top, where there were 4 families living there!  But it was extremely overgrown by 150 years of being mostly uninhabited.  He got money from Yale University of excavate and research.  They spent a few years cleaning and sending artifacts back to Yale to be researched and cataloged.  Around the 1950's Macchu Picchu became a tourist attraction.

Unfortunately, the tarnish on the story is that Yale never gave back the artifacts that Bingham sent up.  Last year, the Peruvian government took Yale to court  over the stolen artifacts.  Yale gave back about 25% of the artifacts.  Peruvians are still hoping they'll get the other 75% back.

View of Macchu Picchu from Hyanapicchu the mountain overlooking the city. Macchu Picchu means big mountain in Quechua.  Photo care of my roommate Ben, the photographer.

View of Hyanapicchu, meaning little mountain from Macchu Picchu.  That was the second mountain we climbed to the top of.  But more about that in the next post where I whinge about how hard it was.  Photo also care of Ben.

Lake Titicaca

I've been slacking in the updates.  My internet is good, but a bit slow when it comes to uploading photos, so I've been procrastinating posting.  Sorry.  (Also, all my photos are in RAW because of the photo project, but more on that later)

Anyways, my first weekend in Peru I went with 6 of my roommates to Puno and Lake Titicaca.  I wanted to go to Lake Titicaca since I learned it was in Peru, but I didn't know why it was so famous, other than its 2nd grade funny name.  Well, it is the highest lake in the world.  At 3,800 meters (12,500ft) above sea level.  We took an overnight bus from Cusco to Puno, got picked up at the bus station at 4:30am and taken to a hostel to sleep and have breakfast.  

From there we got on an old rickety boat on the lake and taken to the Uros Islands.  Uros islands are floating reed islands.  I believe they were made by the Incas to get away from the Spanish.  The President of the Island we were on showed us how they were made.  There's about 3 meters of reed roots tied together, and on top of that dried reeds are laid criss-cross on top about a meter deep.  Then they just build their huts on top. Walking on the islands, you can tell its floating, every step sinks a bit.  

The Uros islands, while cool...are a bit of  a tourist trap.  They give you a little presentation, let you see inside their huts, then try to sell you things.  And boy did I fall for it!  I spent like 30soles on the island, which is a lot of my tight tight budget.  The President took a few of us into his hut.  Inside he had two cute little boys laying in bed....watching TV!  Yup.  And island with no electricity that is supposed to be living old school ways...the President has solar panels!!  I thought this was kinda sad.  Yea, its cool that they can bring technology to them, but TV, really?  Gentrification at its finest my friends!  Regardless, they were very nice.  They let us take pictures without charging us, which is always nice.  In Cusco, to take a picture of someone is 1sol. 

From Uros we got back on the boat for a 3 hour ride to the island Amantani.  We were told they didn't have electricity either, but that was a lie.  There were power lines on the island (not much, but they were there.)  We were also told they only speak Quechua (the native language) but our host family spoke Spanish.  One thing they did tell us that was true was that it was going to be crazy cold at night!  And it was.  But our host gave us hats to wear, especially for when we were sleeping.  (which she later sold to us).  But after lunch we walked with our tour up to the top of the mountain on the island.  It was 4,100m above sea level.  The walk was easy, not a hike, just walking up a path...but oh my god was it hard!  I honestly think it may have been the most physically demanding thing I've ever done....solely because of the altitude.  My body wanted to keep going but I just could not breath.  That must be how life long smokers feel!  The top was cool and pretty though, and I have a gazillion pictures!  Hooray!

When we got back down the mountain my roommates and I decided to stop and share a bottle of wine at the only shop in the community.  Its a really great group.  Then we had dinner with our respective families and they dressed us up in traditional dresses of the island and had a fiesta!  The dresses were great, a white tunic with embroidered flowers, two giant colorful skirts, and a belt.  The host wife made fun of my size the whole time she was helping me put this costume over my clothes.  Then they cinch you up with the belt...like old corsets.  Of course cinching the belt made the skirts bulge...to which the wife patted my belly saying "tu baby."  Gee thanks.  Peruvian women are quite small....does a number on the ole self confidence.  But the party was really fun!  me and the other two girls, Alejandra and Jill walked back up the hill and met the boys (who were dressed in wool ponchos).  We danced the night away.  Now I know why they are so small!  It was crazy exhausting!

The next day after a traditional breakfast with the family we got back on the boat and went to the Island Tequile.  We walked up the mountain to the center.  It was easier than the day before.  Then we had lunch at a restaurant type place.  They served us trout from Lake Titicaca that they had caught that day.  It was really good!  And they danced and sang for us and let us take pictures.  

After that it was a 3 hour boat ride back to Puno.  We had 5 hours to kill in Puno but it was Easter Sunday, so there wasn't much open.  We stopped at a tourist bar for awhile, then had dinner at a local restaurant (one of my only times eating out), then to the overnight bus back to Cusco!  It was a great trip. We're going to Macchu Picchu this weekend...can't wait!

The Power of Friendship

As I mentioned in the last post, there's a lot of roommate love going on.  In a family kind of way.  There are 14 of us in the house, and we all get along quite well.  We spend a lot of time talking about how much we like each  other and the vibe of the house.  Some have even been moved to tears (on multiple occasions).  I swear, we're going to start singing Kumbayah pretty soon.  We know how corny it is, and we relish in it.

Cuzco isn't the most dangerous place in the world, nor is it the safest.  I think that is why our house has bonded so strongly so quickly.  Most of us speak rusty Spanish at best and we're in this place that could really take us for granted because of it. I came in with a bit of a negative attitude, but despite my preconceived notions, each person in the house has managed to win me over.  Not like I'm the toughest person to win over, but still.  And knowing that I have 13 people out here who have my back is a very powerful feeling.

Tonight, 7 of us are leaving together on a night bus to Puno to see Lake Titicaca.  Its a trip I wouldn't have had the courage to do on my own.  I would've done it, but I would have signed up with our program, gone alone and been totally ripped off.  (we got the bus and the all inclusive tour for $95).  The tour we set up will pick us up from the bus station and take us on a two day tour of the Lake.  We will visit 3 of the floating reed islands and stay with an indigenous family on one of the islands.  It's going to be awesome.   Seeing Lake Titicaca is awesome, seeing Lake Titicaca with 6 friends that feel like family is epic AND awesome.

Without further ado, I present to you, my housemates:

Its not the best picture, but its first pic we have of most the house.  Left to right: Evan, who got cut off is from LA, Maddie from Canada, Ben from Germany, Jesse (Rasta Man) from Australia, me, Amy from Canada, Liza from Canada, Alejandra from Puerto Rico, and Rose from Canada.

Not pictured is Jill from Chicago, Elaine from Ireland, Adrian from Trinidad, and Min-ho from New York.  Also, not to be left out is Sylvia our house manager and Priscilla our professional chef.

Its a pretty good house.  I'm already anticipating how much it will suck when they all start leaving.  Whoever comes in is going to have big shoes to fill.