I'm the chaufa to his chicharron...

Well, hello, my lil' chechua...

How is my chicharron doing today?

Aw! That's so tacu tacu!!

Yes, since I have arrived here in Peru, I have become fluent in my own version of Peruvian Spanish. I seem to take words for foods and make them adjectives and verbs all the time. The locals seem to understand what I am saying, even when I don't have a clue what I am talking about...

I still don't think chechua is an actual word, but I called Nicole "my lil' chechua" this morning at breakfast. She didn't respond with the huge smile I expected, and seemed a bit more confused than anything. Hmm...

As my traveling buddy and I walked around Arequipa on Tuesday, checking out the European-styled cobble-stoned alleys, we agreed "chicharron" was one of the coolest words ever invented in ANY language. Those Latinos really know how to share what's on their minds...even if "chicharron" really only means "fried" (well, fried porkskin). He was my lil chicharron, and I was his chaufa (fried rice). I decided Nicole was my chechua because she was a little "chick"...thus, chechua naturally. Actually, she is more like my chiquita...that must be where they got the name of those bananas.

As we sat in the Plaza de Armas enjoying our drinks (notice a trend?!), our food terms synthesized into our sentences so much more fluidly.

I would absolutely recommend visiting Arequipa one day...the town itself is quaint and very similar to a European small town; however, the people there were very kind. We met a police officer lady who walked us to the Plaza from our hotel only because we asked her to point us in the right direction. Acts like this typically come with a request of some type of payment, but she just left us with a smile and questions to ponder, like why DID we choose to come out to Peru for our vacation?

When we got in the night before, and decided to see the town by moonlight, we could tell we would like it in daylight, but we did notice many drunk individuals walking around. We thought maybe it was a hot spot for Easter vacation...but I don't think so. I would rather hit the beaches here, I would think, than hang out on romantic alleys with my boys. ;) Nonetheless, the daytime definitely sold me better.

And to answer the policelady's question: what we are realizing is that Peru has a bit of everything - the mountains, sea, desert, jungle, Andean music, surf, hot salsa, pisco sours, ancient ruins, excellent cebiche, indigenous villagers, and cityfolk....and never forget the chicharrons and chaufas. ;)

O2 = Necessity

Whomever said oxygen was not vital to life, was an absolute idiot. As our bus ascended to 3,800 meters (that's 12,500 feet for you Americans who don't know how to use the metric system...that includes me, don't worry), I started to feel as though there was some sick joke being played on me. Was there a ghost from the Incan past pressing down against my chest ensuring I couldn't even gasp for air?! Ok, fine, I am being a little dramatic, but not by much. As we hiked up hill, I started to understand what claustrophobia feels like. I felt like I was trapped in a box (bus) and my air was running out. Even as I sit here in Puno writing this, I definitely don't feel totally well. I won't lie...I was excited to have an excuse to drink an exorbitant amount of the coca tea since it supposedly helps you acclimate to the altitude. But besides that plus, this whole not breathing thing, ain't no fun.

I am suddenly understanding the lame trend of oxygen bars back home. So, who cares if we may not need as much fresh oxygen there as I do RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW (that was a good song by the way)? I finally get it.

Have I mentioned that the lack of oxygen makes me feel a tad loopy?

Thankfully, we will be heading downhill for the next leg...which I hear means I will be on a natural high...ooh, that means Lima is going to be a GREAT time at the end of the week. Not many people can say they go downhill to Cusco, but when you visit the highest navigable lake on the planet prior to going to the Incan capital, you end up in some unique circumstances.

Lake Titicaca, here I come!!!

Ha, I said titi-caca. :)

Cast Away

Now, I understand that American films don’t always make it out to the “outside” world right away. I usually find it pretty heart-warming when I see an old favorite back out in the theatres when I travel abroad. However, “Cast Away” was a movie that should never have been brought back to anyone’s world.

As I was trying to rest on my five-hour bus ride from Arequipa to Puno, I started feeling very fortunate to be on this bus with seats that fit my entire body, had a cushioned footrest, and would recline pretty much the entire way. After my traveling partner grabbed us a can of Pringles and a couple Sprites for our journey, and we read a few pages of Rolf Potts’ Vagabonding, I decided it was dark enough to nap. We were supposed to be on the road before 5:30, and we didn’t leave until close to 6. So, with the sun setting behind us as we drove East, I figured it would be the perfect time to put on DJ Shadow on my Ipod, and relax.

It hadn’t been ten minutes that I closed my eyes before the bus’ tv monitors turned on and the personal speakers above me for my seat (how kind of them) started blaring. I am not just saying they were loud. They were louder than any human would want them…and approximately a foot above my head. I figured turning my Ipod volume up would suffice, but I couldn’t even decipher what song was on anymore.

For a minute, I thought I would go along with what the locals were doing and watch whatever movie was about to start. However, I feel like we are all being insulted by putting on Cast Away!!!

Before the movie had really even started, I started dreaming about how I would rather actually be a cast away...in Antartica...or wasn't Russia just bombed...or isn't the Palestinian/Israeli border not the best place to visit? ANYWHERE! I would rather do anything but be forced to watch this movie. Ok, fine. I was not forced to WATCH it, but I absolutely was forced to listen to it…and in Spanish nonetheless. A three-hour movie about Tom Hanks talking to himself for 90% of it, and his volleyball best friend, Wilson, for the other 30%. Or something. Look, math was never my strength... ;) I mean Tom Hanks literally cried for a good ten minutes apologizing (to whom?!?) for losing Wilson in the deep blue ocean. Growl.

So, now I have to think to relax and watch a movie. Not in the mood.

Earlier, I thought how good an idea it was to take a bus knowing it would take five hours. It would force us to sit back and relax instead of walk around to see all the sites…although “seeing the sites” often includes sitting at various cafes sipping on a glass of some tasty cold libation – be it a pisco sour, glass of white wine, or cerveza. Nonetheless, my idea of lounging back and relaxing for a few hours was shot.

The most interesting thing actually, is that no matter how awfully loud the movie was, I could still hear an older man snoring his brains out in the front of the bus…given, there were only four aisles on our “First Class” main floor (since we can all recline our seats), but still. Pretty remarkable.

Someone, PLEASE cast me away from this place!

Expensive Taste

So, before I even left home for Peru, Nicole sent out an email saying how inexpensive it was out here. Knowing how much I love to eat, she wrote me that I will eat like royalty...three course meals for next to nothing...Well, I have to admit, I could not wait for this!

On Sunday, we decided we wanted to stay in the same hotel since our flight left for Arequipa on Monday night. At 11:30 am, we were told we had to leave by noon because a large group was coming in for a few days. DOH! We still had to find a hotel for the night, get packed, find the location of La Mar, the restaurant recommended to us for brunch, etc. Somehow, we left AT 12:02, and made it happen. The hotel we booked happened to be literally across the street. PERFECT! I actually like Hotel Rancu much better than Hostel Torreblanca, and had a great breakfast this morning with a 180 degree view of the ocean below us. Yes, please!

Anyway, Sunday, after we dropped off our bags at our new hotel, we walked over to La Mar...oh, my goodness. I have expensive taste. So much for Nicole's inexpensive food declaration. We shared a cebiche clasico y una plata de causas mixtas (mashed potatoes with fish or veggies on top - similar to a sushi roll but not really at all) - this is very traditional food due to the fact that Peru has more variety of potatoes than anywhere else in the world (Ireland got nothin' on us!). We, then, washed down our meal with a nice buttery Chardonnay from Argentina...all for a low-cost of about $40. It's not expensive necessarily, but considering we are in a pretty poor country, I think we found one of the more high-end spots. Oh, well. Pretty damn worth it. :) But, more importantly, I looooooved the architecture of this place. They used natural lighting above by using bamboo poles for the roofing. This was juxtaposed against concrete walls that gave it a distinct chic feel. It also had the nicest bathrooms in Lima...yaye, developing world!

From there, we just walked the rest of the day. And when I say rest of the day, I mean REST OF THE DAY. We got back to the hotel at 8:30 pm, and am pretty sure no one walks from San Ysidro through Miraflores to Barranco...not in one day, at least. It was definitely a nice oceanside walk along the cliffs of Miraflores. Along the way, we saw a skatepark, poor surf, lots of couples making out on the grass, the famous Parque del Amor with probably the worst public art in Latin America (a giant statue of a fat couple making out...weird) and a weak imitation of Parque Guell (Gaudi's park in Barcelona), a mega-mall called Larcomar (complete with a Tony Roma's nonetheless), Puente de Suspiros (a small footbridge in the Barranco area that supposedly grants your wish if you hold your breath as you cross), the Biblioteca y Iglesia bookending the Plaza in Barranco, and more couples making out. Did I mention there were couples making out?? Young. Old. Fat. Skinny. Brown. White. Didn't really matter. Oh, well. Spring is apparently in the air...wait, is it Spring here?? Do they do Springs? I thought it was rainy season...and dry season. ANYWAY.

We sat down at a restaurant to grab papas fritas and a cerveza before we head back to nap and eat later, but nope. They had only meat options. Not even bread. Thank goodness for Cusquenas (cervezas)!

At that point, we hopped in a cab from much farther out than the night before, but for half the price. Yeah. We actually decided we wanted to try this vegetarian spot near Parque Kennedy, but since it was Palm Sunday, and we are in an uber-Catolico pais, we had no chance. However, we walked by (yes, more walking) Las Tejas, a restaurant my friend, Nina, had recommended, and decided to check it out. I am so glad we sat down for a bite here. It was yumsters - we had the vegetarian fried rice (apparently there is a huge Chinese influence here because of the railroad workers in the mid-1800's just like home), and Tacu Tacu (yes, it was actually called that), a traditional Incan cuisine typically made from boiled and fried mash of rice and beans with meat, but we got it with fish. It was actually really good. It tasted a little bit like the Costa Ricans' gallo pinto...and that is definitely one of my weaknesses. :) Of course, we had more pisco sours, and after a $20 check, we then decided to head back to the hotel.

We thought we were going to nap for a bit before hittin' up the town...but yeah, we woke up this morning at around 8:30 am. A good solid 12 hours of sleepage.

This morning, we booked our hotel in Arequipa and Puno...I think I may have to let go of my expensive taste. We have a room for $23 in Arequipa at a place called...wait for it, wait for it...Amazing Home Hostal. And our room in Puno for the four of us is $35 total. I am probs going to really like how much the food costs there...Nicole was right, and I am getting hungry just thinking about it. No, really...I am.

Off to shower and walk around San Ysidro and then off to Central Lima to see La Plaza de Armas y la catedral.

Where to eat next?

Thank you vacation...

American Idle

I have never really considered myself American, and I think anyone who knows me would definitely agree that I don't know how to be idle...nor would I really want to. Even here in Lima, as I am supposed to be "vacationing", I cannot help but think about all the million things I want to do and see here. Last night, after a jarra de pisco sour and a liter of Pilsen cerveza, as our local cab driver was zigzagging through town trying to find the hotel (honestly, we gave him a map and pointed out how we were only a few blocks away, but it took us maybe 40 minutes to get back...the assumption is he may not know how to read), my mind was going a million miles an hour.

By definition, being unemployed, I should feel pretty idle. I should feel like this is the first trip in a long time where I can truly relax and not worry about law school finals, grading papers, planning projects, etc...however, this is probably the first trip I have been a tad homesick and felt like something is missing. Maybe I feel like I don't deserve a trip if I am not "bringing home the bacon", so to speak...not that I would EVER bringing home bacon...pigs are my favorite animals...they belong on a beautiful vast piece of land frolicking amongst other pigs...not in my belly. :) Anyway...I experienced the odd sensation of missing home within the first few hours of arriving in Lima. For a girl who has traveled to over fifty countries and has spent months at a time abroad, this was a strange reaction indeed. I think a part of it was thinking about all the things I had going on at home and how much I wanted to get those personal projects started. But I still don't think that quite gets at the cause because, ultimately, if I want to be a writer (and a travel writer at that), I am here traveling and starting my very first travel blog. So, my hope is to discover Peru and a bit about myself over the next few weeks. Maybe I can even figure out the meaning of this homesickness thing. It's an exciting time....

After getting into Lima Saturday evening, we checked into our hotel and took a breather. We finally figured out where we were going next, and about two hours later, finally booked a flight to Arequipa. As of right now, we decided to make our way from Arequipa in the South, to Puno so we can spend a few days at Lago Titicaca, then up to Cusco to hopefully see Machu Picchu and the surrounding area, and then up to Iquitos to spend a few (hopefully pretty memorable and crazy) days in the Amazon.

So, after we figured all this out, we took a walk from our hotel in Miraflores to what is called "Restaurant Row" by my trusted travel companion who has been here two times previously. It was a really nice walk, as other locals were walking their dogs, or couples were walking hand-in-hand in this oceanfront community. As we passed our third roundabout ("circulos") that function as mini-plazas lined with trees and benches, we came across a much larger park that definitely seemed more alive. We later found out it was called Parque Kennedy. There were artists selling their work, food vendors galore, a crafts market full of jewelry, indigenous products like llama-wool sweaters, beanies, and scarves, and other trinkets. The best part of the park was noticing approximately a hundred people surrounding a small recessed stage where many of us in the audience could look down on people of all shapes, sizes, and ages dancing to salsa music. Since most of them were older, I couldn't tell they were shaking their hips like I am used to seeing on such educational dance shows like "Dancing with the Stars." The energy was absolutely amazing. I couldn't help but wonder how a crowd like that even starts. Does one person just get down there and start dancing? Then, others follow? Or do you sit around a bar with a bunch of your friends and ice-cold cervezas and yell, "hey guys! let's go start a salsa party in the park!"? However, they decided to do it, I much appreciated it.

After walking through this park, I was ready to eat someone's leg. My leg wouldn't have been very helpful...I was HUNGRY. So, finally, we arrived to this small side pedestrian-only street filled with restaurants and bars on both sides serving the exact same menu (Avenida del Pizzarias?). It really reminded me of Dahab and how we would constantly get hounded by the same people every time we walked by. One guy finally told us he would throw in free pisco sours, and naturally, we were sold. In a country where pork, lamb, beef, chicken, and guinea pigs are the norm, I had to settle for a plate of cold potatoes with a red cream sauce (papas de huancaino), and my travel companion had the pescado con mantequilla y limon...I will admit, I had a few bites, and it was better than my papas...although both were absolutely fine considering I would've eaten a cute cheeky baby at that point. We were still hungry, so we ordered a small plate of pan con ajo and a jarra de pisco sour. Let's get this party rollin'...or something.

We decided, as tired as I was, we should still walk around and check out the area. We turned a corner and found a small bar that had a cerveza special - two cervezas for ten soles (2 for $3)...uh, yes please! We walked in and instead, ordered a liter of beer (more beer for less than a dollar more). Then, this amazonian beer promoter girl gave us two free beers, as well, and then for some reason, took a picture with us. She really didn't say a word, just posed with us, and then left the premises immediately afterward. Maybe it was something we said...or didn't say!?

As the beers were imbibed, my Spanish improved dramatically...go figure.

This is when we finally found our dear illiterate cab driver...although I don't know if illiterate is even the word. If you didn't know how to read, but you lived in a town, wouldn't you recognize places on a map?? However, once we would even tell him the street names, he still wouldn't know where to go and would drive right through them. At first we thought maybe he was just messing with us to charge more, but since we had already negotiated a set price, we realized, nope, he really just has no idea how to get there. Once we realized he may not know how to read, I will admit, I felt a little tug on my heartstrings. I didn't mind getting lost so much anymore and really felt for the guy. I wonder if this is something I will see more of out here.

So, that was just the first evening...

Today, Sunday, I will be starting my day at La Mar, apparently the best cebicheria in town. Mmmmm...mmmmm...mmmmm. I am justifying my pescado-eating with the knowledge that it is locally caught, and by a fisherman who is probably not using huge nets. If anyone tells me otherwise, I will hunt you down. :)

Cougars and Pimps

I am not generally one to get all bothered by un-PC jokes...it obviously depends on who is saying it to whom, and what the context is...

For as long as I can remember, "pimp" was in our society's vocabulary...whether it was to define an individual who brokers women or use it as an action of improving an object. I always understood the argument that using this term so freely may show our acquiescence in such lifestyles. I didn't necessarily agree with this view, but I can absolutely see what these people were talking about. Ultimately, it is just a word.

However, these days, the female double entendre is "cougar". What is the difference between "pimp" and "cougar"? In light of all the Melinda Dennehys out there, how is it so funny to talk about "cougars"? If 45-year-olds going home from bars with 25-year-olds are giggled about and often become the theme of frat parties, then what's to say a 41-year-old teacher sending nude pictures via text to her 15-year-old student is abhorable?

Maybe it's from my few years of teaching and truly loving these kids that is bringing out the Mama Bear in me...making me want to protect them from such pathetic individuals. However, if we know that there is nothing ok with such Melinda Dennehy's actions, then these other so-called "cougars" should be ashamed of their actions, as well! Right?! Is the only difference between Melinda the pedophile and these other cougars the fact that these other women hit on "adults"? Because at the arbitrary age of 18, a child suddenly becomes an adult? 18-year-olds suddenly can make good judgments and think for themselves? Well, if that was the case, then why did dear Melinda get caught sexting her student?!

But is it really fair to judge ladies like Demi Moore and Susan Sarandon who seem to truly find love in a younger man? What is the difference? How can we judge them differently? I don't think it would be such a bad thing to stop looking for the humor in such actions.

For example, in college, I was guilty of going to a "Ghettofantabulous"-themed party, and more recently, my friends threw a "Mexican"-themed party where people dressed up in sombreros and mustaches. The intention was maybe to drink coronas and tequila...I have no doubt anyone is intending to hurt any race, gender, sexual orientation, etc...but with the recent uproar over the Compton Cookout at UCSD, I have to admit, everyone should probably be a little more careful.

I understand the whole "it's just a joke" perspective...but when you really think about it...is it really just a joke? When there are people saying their feelings are hurt, is tickling your fancy really worth their discomfort?

I have no answers...Of course I wish we lived in a world where we could joke about whatever we wanted, and where there could not possibly be any repercussions...I hear the first thing to go in old age is humor...this is just the beginning for me. ;)

Dance of the Birds...

Maybe it's because I actually have some "free" time now...but I couldn't help but notice the beautiful patterns the birds were making in the sky today. It made me wonder...are they dancing to maintain order...or do they dance because they CAN...

I mean do they make those patterns together because their buddies are also dancing the same way? What does it mean? What happens if one bird falls back or just chooses not to? Will he be shunned?

Or are they truly the epitome of freedom?! They dance because they can...because they are FREE to.

Some people are good at even making "order" look beautiful...and others don't care about what society says NEEDS to happen...and instead just LIVE. They DANCE.

I need to practice...

NBC Sabbatical

I am a lucky girl. Very blessed. I have had the opportunity to meet some of the most beautiful people on this planet, and have learned many skills I hope to apply in the next chapter of my life. So, after a few years working hard and learning much, it is finally time I take my NBC Sabbatical...No, I don't work for NBC. But, yes. It's my NBC Sabbatical. Not.By.Choice. However, I am truly excited, and cannot wait to see what is to come - there are endless possibilities. I will try my best to post on here as much as possible.

So far, I have tried to set up the foundations for a web-based tv show, started a vision board, discovered idealist.org, and apparently have my very own fan page on facebook. It has been an eventful first day, indeed.