Don’t Eat Guinea Pig with Germans in Peru… (and other observations)

I needed to get out. This was the conclusion I came to back in May, and as a result of a somewhat random bout of inspiration while sitting around the drum table in my living room, Lauren and I decided that the best thing to do would be to go to Peru. I needed to get out of LA, and out of the United States, and out of the seeming rut I was in. I need to get out.

I had these vague notions of Peru that mostly stemmed from misty pictures of Machu Picchu and the knowledge that there was once a great people in Peru called the Incas, but in retrospect I had absolutely no clue what I would find in Peru. When people would ask me why Peru, I would ask: why not? – simply because I had no better response. But even after reading my Lonely Planet and a couple other guide books and feeling like I had a pretty good idea of where we were going, everything about Peru proved to be a great surprise. To write an expository piece about my adventure would take too many words, and so for now I will patchwork together some snapshots of my favorite parts:

In Peru there are no traffic rules and no lanes and cab drivers charge you whatever they wish unless you ask them ahead of time. Instead of stopping at intersections, they honk. They also like to honk at pedestrians and speed up to scare them out of the way.

A view that will take your breath away is one located above 11,000 feet. Just a short walk up to the top of an island in Lake Titicaca can literally take your breath away and leave you lightheaded. So can the sunset and 360* views of a lake so huge it could be an ocean.

Standing next to an outhouse and the giant cow in the dark on an island that had neither running water nor electricity and realizing that I have never seen so many stars in my entire life. We could live on a lot less, with a lot less, and still be happy. We would be no less human.

Would you like some potatoes with your… potatoes?

The 7 hour bus ride between Puno and Cuzco: The window that had to be taped shut and still couldn’t keep out the winter cold. Wearing the alpaca knit hat and gloves the entire way. The native women in their brightly colored skirts and bowler hats and dozen parcels each yelling at each other at 1 in the morning because they could not agree who owned which box of shampoo bottles.

At one point (I think while we were on one of the “local” busses again and stopped in the middle of nowhere) Lauren made the astute observation that a place is only made shady by the people in it. People who live in crumbling adobe homes in cities where dogs run stray have no reason to harm you simply because they are poor.

Arriving at Machu Picchu at sunrise, we soon made the decision to hike the trail to Huayna Picchu… I am awfully glad that the mountain was hidden in the cloud because I do not think we would have made the massive climb if we knew what we were getting ourselves into. But sitting at the very top and looking down at the ruined city from afar, I realized that the truly amazing thing about Machu Picchu is that no matter how much it is hyped up, it will always exceed one’s expectations. I have never experienced anything else like it in this world.

Listening to Frank Sinatra on a cell phone mp3 player while drinking Pisco Sours with cute German boys and feeling swoony drunk. There will never be another night like this. I was awfully glad that I could lean on Lauren’s shoulder on the walk back to our hostel that night. The streets were cobbled and dimly lit.

In those same cobblestone streets, a tiny girl squatting next to an ancient Incan wall on a Sunday morning – her pee streaming toward the gutter. She looks at me with worried brown eyes and behind her in the Plaza de Armas a great Catholic clergyman speaks. Flags flutter soundlessly in the cold clear air.

Fresh squeezed orange juice and an avocado sandwich on a sunny porch where two dogs sat quietly at our feet. A stray horse ran through the street and frightened a couple uniformed school girls who had just left class for the day. The old gentleman tried to run but could not catch up with his horse. Where is his horse now?

Roosters. Damn it, not again!

Learning a lesson: Don’t eat Guinea Pig with a German boy in Peru, there will not be enough meat for the two of you and they will bring it out with the head still attached – its malicious little teeth gleaming… Bernd had it right when he said: “If we were out in the wild and all there was to eat was Guinea Pig… we would starve.”

Awaking before sunrise in the rainforest to the eerie din of Howler Monkeys like a stormy wind creaking through the trees and vines. Later discovering a family of Howlers in the trees above our heads and quietly venturing off the trail, through the jungle to have a closer look. Their fur an even more fiery red… their black faces looking curiously back at us. Thinking how this was my childhood fantasy come true.

3 girls hiking through the jungle at night looking for bugs (and Lauren’s peal of screams when a giant spider used her as a launch pad.)

The novelty of hot running water and electricity after a time without it… and realizing that our trip was almost over. In that moment I knew that even after I was back in my own room in Los Angeles, I would never be the same again.