CHAPTER 5
Now I am sitting in a cafe overlooking cuzco's main square, the plaza de armas, soaking up th erich variety of sights and sounds as i write. The huge cathedrals flanking the square are backdrop to a large fountain, gardens, and benches filled with all manner of tourists, beggars, local women in bright ponchos, and ever present flocks of pigeons.
There is a stable in the centre preparing for what i am told will be a live nativity scene for 5 days before christmas, and 5 after.
In the background of this all, there is the shrill whistle of the police, with seemingly no reason or rhythm to the way they blow it. They just blow it. Constantly. Piercingly. But it somehow fits the collage of scenes merging together in this vibrant little town. To prove my point, Anthony just laughed and i looked up to see santa in a car, parked just beneath the patio we're sittting on.

The thrills of travel come from many places and one will never grow bored if you keep your eyes open.
So finally, here endeth the chapter of the journey thus far.......

CHAPTER 4

The other hikers we met on the trek were so fun, and there was a general feeling of comeraderie as we all hiked along.
Passing on the trail, one would commonly hear "hey canada!", followed by "hey denmark!", greetings between newfound friends.
The porters were the real heroes of the trek, as we'd watch men who looked old enough to be my grandfather run by with full tanks of propane on their backs. One set of stairs that, to me, looked more like a waterslide, took about 10 minutes to get down as we tried to find decent footholds and not slip. Shortly after I reached the bottom, two porters came with packs three times the size of mine and literally ran straight down the steps. oh, shame.
After everything we accomplished on the hike: the heights, lengths, and sheer physical work it took to complete, Machu Picchu was almost anticlimactic. So many goals had been accomplished just getting there.
The city, however, is still remarkable. THe Incas' knowledge of engineering was incredible and is displayed in their seismic-minded buildings, perfectly formed, each stone fitting perfectly and smoothly together without mortar. Their knowledge of agriculture was also unmatched as they made terraces to grow crops where there should only be rocky landslides.
The sheer labour and also the artistry of the city, complete withe water systems and botanical gradens, was amazing.
After Machu Picchu, we made out way back to Aguas Calientes and proceeded to sit onthe sidewalk, eat snacks, and play cards ("like hippies!", ricardo exclaimed happily, except his spanish accent made it sound lik "heeepies").

CHAPTER3
This one is entitled: The Trek, the Shits

Amidst all the stunning surroundings and the excitement of fulfilling a dream, I had one major drawback. I had just spent an entire month in paraguay, eating and drinking locally with few ill effects, but of course it stands to reason that the day i left for the Inca trail, I got the worst case of the schnertz.
So when i wasn't stopped to admire plants or the incredibly breathtaking scenery, I was stopped in an effort to control the overwhelming urge to lose my bowels all over history.
So one could imagine Becki the Hiker, waist buckle undone and flapping to prevent unnecessary pressure, climbing the countless stairs of the inca trail with the awkward movements that resulted from squeezing the gluteus to prevent any horrific explosions.
But, believing that anything worthwhile usually takes a bit of work, climbing to Machu Picchu with a bad case of the runs only served to make me feel more hardcore.
I'd also like to send a shout out to rachelle for her gift of immodium.
cheers buddy.

CHAPTER 2
We began the trek on Monday with a group of 4 american study abroad students, one fellow from el salvador, and our trusty Peruvian guide, Edwin.
We hiked a total of 42km and reached an altitude of 4100m. It was grueling and incredible.
Here's an excerpt from my journal on day 3 of the hike:

Yesterday I stood on a cliff overlooking one of the most stunning vistas I've ever seen. It was everything one would imagine Peru to be: the dark, damp forest covering huge mountains muscling up against one another in tectonic bravado.
The clouds sailed past in different forms: as giant mists completely obstructing the view, or innocent fluffy shapes floating past the giant crags.
Looking past boulders, grass, and wildflowers growing out of the steep mountainside, I could see a lake- a tiny mirror reflecting the glory around it.
A humble lagoon was instantly transformed when, in its clear water, many dimensions of earth and sky were present.
Up on a hill, I felt the sensation of being caught between heaven and earth. The ethereal mists, plummeting depths of nearby valleys, and mountaintops astonishing in their greatness made th scene almost spiritual. As I sat, I thought about how my grandma was doing and the battle she fights as her soul hovers between heaven and earth...
I wonder if it has been surrendered to Heaven yet.
Surrounded by the sheer "big-ness" of the scene unfolding around me, there are no words to utter except an awestruck "thank you".
Breathing the thin, fresh mountain air as the sun warms my face, and curious clouds float in to glance at their guests, i feel only calm. peace. tranquility...

At the time of writing, i didn't know where the situation with my grandma lay. I had asked God to tell me if she passed while i was on the trek, and on Tuesday night I awoke from a bad dream and couldn't get back to sleep. The next day on that mountain I spoke to God and to her, and the strangest sensation of peace that made me comment to Anthony "not to be wierd or anything, but i wonder if this has anything to do with my grandma..".
It was only upon my return to cuzco two days later that I learned that was the night she'd been surrendered to Heaven.

well, here i am at home, finally putting on the blog what i wrote in my journal nearly 2 weeks ago... the final frontier of our trip. better late than never, right? it's pretty long, so i've broken it into manageable chapters :)

CHAPTER 1
The last week has been a rollercoaster of activity as Anthony arrived and we drove to iguazu falls (brazil) in a day, spent the next night in buenos aires (argentina), and the night afterward in the lima airport before arriving to our destination of cuzco, peru.
Cuzco is the launching point for our trek along the inca trail to the ancient city of Machu Picchu. Thank goodness we took two days to get used to the altitude because our prairie lungs had us wheezing at every set of stairs we encountered (quite a lot, being that cuzco is built in and around mountains).
The first night in cuzco, we met up with a fun group of cuzquenas (?people of cuzco?) with whom we drank pisco sours, a national drink, while we laughed, talked, and listened to a local artist play renditions of angry 90's female music as the background.
The next day we went to a giant market in Pisak. Just getting there involved winding our way through mountain roads and ancient ruins. Upon our arrival, we walked up into a huge, spreading market selling peruvian wares of every variety. Next to the hippie selling handmade earrings was a lady beheading a fish, and other old women sold strange mixtures of fruits, roots, and herbs. Peruvian rugs, scarves, and of course ponchos also added to the variety.
Anthony and i went on a tasting adventure and bought something that looked like a giant green bean but contained furry white fruits, a cob of choclo (giant corn), and juice made from black corn. The day before, we had eaten fried corn kernels as an appetizer to alpaca and cuy (guinea pig).
At the market, anthony spotted some animals in a little fence and commented on the cute little bunnies. Upon closer inspection, I regretfully informed him that they were not bunnies, but rather what he had eaten just the day before... yikes.
After the market, we returned to our hostel to begin packing for the goal of our Peruvian visit : Machu Picchu!

The last few days have held all sorts of new adventures here in the south...

I reluctantly wrapped up my time in Paraguay by spending some epic last days with friends, going out with Riki and Anja, hanging out at the janz house, even going to the school to help wrap grad presents that Riki had to distribute.
Anthony arrived to join the adventures for a wee bit before Christmas, so Riki welcomed him to Asuncion by taking us to a churresqueria, a brazilian-style buffet where servers frequent your table with skewers of freshly barbequed meat. Very manly.
We got home late and laden with food, only to awake at 4:30am to leave for the world-famous Iguacu falls, picking up friends Mark and Fransisco on the way. The trip took us a little longer then usual as we had to pass through a village that was the destination for an annual pilgrimage people take to pay off their sins, or to settle a deal they've made with the Big Guy. This involves mass amounts of pedestrian traffic on the highway, and a town absolutely congested with weary pilgrims getting their consciences cleared for the coming year- an interesting sight, to say the least. Fransisco must've been thinking about this when we left him in the car sleeping while we bought groceries, and Riki received a text in the supermarket from him saying "the rapture has happened, and i've been left behind...". Fransisco didn't seem too worried though, as we headed back to the car to find him engrossed in his video game.
It was a thrill to cross the border, not just because it meant we were entering Brazil, but also because we were there illegally. How risque...! We headed to the falls after our picnic lunch and proceeded to enjoy the falls (obviously), and all their surrounding jungle, complete with large wandering lizards who nearly licked my ankle with their flickering tongues, odd-looking little creatures (lemurs perhaps?) with a raccoon tail and almost piglike snout, and beautiful butterflies. The Brazilian side of the falls has a beautiful walk along the falls, which ends in a platform where you can stand right on top of the rushing water as it falls probably 20 or so metres beneath you. Being in the middle of the water's power, getting soaked in the mists rising from the furious movement, makes a person feel alive!
After enjoying the falls, we thought we'd make good time home, until the car broke down in Ciudad del Este. But help arrives from unexpected places (cheers, God) and it turned out that Riki's cousin who lived near was a mechanic and he came down to help us out of our tight spot. i love the feeling of being looked after no matter where I end up in the world...
Yesterday and today was spent in the beautiful city of Buenos Aires. It's a very european city, with pedestrian streets and gorgeous old architecture. At night, the buildings are lit up and the streets come alive with live music and evening markets. We even managed to find some political all-female reggae tunes and protests on our wanderings.
This evening brings us to the airport in Lima, where we wait on a looong layover for a flight to Cuzco, Peru, the point where we embark on our trek to Machu Picchu. The adventures continue...
In the midst of all these new thrills, sad news from home weighs on my heart. My mom's mom, the amazing and wonderful lady Irene Block, has been wrestling cancer for a few years but has recently taken a turn for the worse, and is in palliative care at the hospital. No one can know exactly how much time she has left, but the doctors say it's a matter of days. If you believe in prayer, perhaps even if you don't, please take a minute to send up a word for her and my grandpa.
When asked about my brother and I out of the country at such a crucial time, she informed my mom that rather than coming home, she wanted us to remember us as a grandma who encouraged her grandkids to pursue their dreams and passions. This is only one example of what makes her such a remarkable woman...
So Grandma, this trip to Peru is dedicated to you, and when I reach Machu Picchu it will be in honour of the many things you have taught me, the least of which being to live abundantly and pursue dreams. I love you.

as i sit here, i can feel the muscles in my back and neck ache with every movement. it is a wonderful feeling, not because it reminds me of my ineptitude at athleticism, but rather it brings memories of TWO days of wakeboarding this week.
cruising down the river when it is too hot to do anything else... passing palm trees, lilypads and simple fishermen, taking the wakeboard for a rip... is pretty much paradise.
i could tell i wasn't in canada anymore when i jumped out of the boat and riki said "just don't stand. there's lots of those flat fish, you know, the ones that hurt??"
"stingrays?!" i reply, looking uneasily at the water while trying to appear very, very cool. "don't those things kill people? i mean, isn't that how steve irwin died?"
but the boys assured me that the stingrays here don't kill people, they only hurt. a lot.
phew.
after this, riki, went on to assure me that i didn't need to worry about stingrays, but...
"but what?" i ask in a high-pitched voice, trying to stare harder into the watery depths and discover my marine enemies.
"um, i'll tell you when you're done wakeboarding" he replies.
great.
so i discover after my wakeboard run (where i crossed the wake for the first time!!! ... only took me four years! keeps this up and i'll be doing backflips by the time i''m 102) that last year they found a boa constrictor in the river where we were. "no big deal, that's pretty rare", i was informed before they went on to tell me about the boa constrictor found in mercado cuatro where i was on saturday. rare? really?
and how bout them piranhas? daniel reassured me that they only bite once.
suddenly wakeboarding on the dirrrrty red seems so safe. i mean, all you'll get there is dead creatures and infections. but they don't bite...
on another note, i said my goodbyes at alto refugio on friday, a bit of a sad occasion. i got smooched a LOT (another reminder i'm not in canada), and everyone was so sweet and lovely. actually, all the people i've met so far in paraguay have been very welcoming and hospitable. what a wonderful culture that is based around sharing a common cup (or bombelia), kissing when you arrive and when you leave, and being generally "tranquilo".
i feel nothing but loved out here, and genuinely appreciate all the warm, friendly people i've met.
and now i'm off to siesta... or to bake a cake. we'll see.
hope all's well in canada.
idea: you could comment and let me know how it's all going where you are (hint hint wink)
love!

some recent update highlight sort of activity:

-going to mercado cuatro, a giant market, and walking through rows and rows of knockoff brand clothing, an entire section of fruit, fish in variety stages of being filleted, and animals of every variety (like a turtle and a duck sharing the same box, even a little bird which i was told was a "dodo". i think my spanish may have failed me on this one though, since i am pretty sure those went extinct a wee while ago)
-the christmas differences: the paraguayans give gifts after christmas to celebrate when the three kings arrived, the mall is decorated as an "enchanted christmas", mostly purple with magic mushrooms to accent the tree. seriously! eliana was singing "o christmas tree" in german, but changed the words from "o tannenbaum" to "o mangobaum". she got a bit confused and began singing "o tangobaum" at the end... a little more argentina than paraguay though if you ask me.
-speaking of mangobaums, it reminds me of my new favorite fruit- the paraguayan mango. they are all ripening, and the trees are loaded down with them. the locals aren't as keen on them, and there are so many that most will just rot on the road. hearing that, i have been helping myself to road mangos. it's like little presents from heaven, as long as they don't hit you as they fall. then it's a bit more like lightning bolts i suppose. i know what you're thinking, dad, and this is not the same as dumpster diving... if anything it's like eating roadkill, without the kill part.
-i am actually so hot right now if there was a body of water anywhere near, i'd be in it. but i've never been so happy to have swass and swack, hearing that there's supposed to be a bit of a cold spell at home this weekend. i've been cutting hair at a childrens shelter and i think today they were pretty grossed out by the sunburned, sweaty hairdresser, but what's a girl to do?

on that note, i am going to go and maybe i'll even locate some ice cream. yes, a wonderful idea!
hopefully this finds you peacefully getting ready for the holidays. sending some magic mushroom holiday love your way ;)

Another blog entry in the sunshine...

i am enjoying the heat from the comfort of a hammock on the little deck of my little room at the house of leo and gudrun. they are an amazing couple with five amazing kids who make my heart warm just thinking about them. the sky is blue and spotless, there are birds navigating through the green leaves of the trees towering around me. i can look over and see mangoes growing, the branches getting heavy over the rust-coloured rooftops...

i have continued working at alto refugio, where i have a made a place for myself as the happy little hairdresser who just doesn't speak spanish. the other day i thanked one lady for the rain in the bathroom instead of the key, and continually refer to "hair" as "horse", as the spanish words are quite similar. oops. i often end up speaking a mishmash of german, spanish, and english to try and make myself understood. i am often successful, and even surprise myself with the conversations that are able to take place. leo and gudrun's youngest angelgirl, eliana, keeps me humble though, as any time i don't say a sentence completely correct she never fails to cock her head, wrinkle her nose, and say "HUH??". can't win 'em all i suppose.

what i didn't mention about my post in this hammock paradise is the church across the street, that at certain times can be heard playing awful choral recordings at full volume, reminiscent of the background music in old disney movies. even the church bells are recorded. and all with the distinctive piercing crackle of the ancient speakers they're playing through. it's a sound that could make the average bystander want to start banging their head against the nearest slab of concrete.

the sights and sound of paraguay generally fill me with joy. soccer games, birds, vehicles, whistles, dogs, and music all combine into a recipe of relaxed contentment. we used siesta time yesterday to check the boat on the river, you know, test it out. but today i think the hammock is calling me to partake in this wonderful tradition.....

wow! i am sitting here in the shelter of riki's parents' house, grateful that i just barely avoided the pouring rain that is pelting down outside...
i left alto refugio a little early today because i saw the pending dark clouds, thought about my walk home, and did the math. it would be good to beat the storm. especially since storms make me want to find the nearest dark corner and assume the fetal position at the best of times.
i have been cutting head upon head of hair recently, it seems that everyone wants a piece of canadian hairdressing. it's awesome! i get to do what i love, it helps other people, and i get to learn spanish! ... although my entire vocabulary now consists of words like "cut? long, short? layers? pretty, beautiful...", and of course the epic conversations starters 'wow, the sun is hot', and 'do you have children?'
that and i know how to tell the cook her food is good. and i do. every day.
the cook's name is Fransisca, known to the resident canadians as Aunt Jemima, a name earned by her remarkable similarities to the syrup matriarch.
Fransisca is a large woman with coarse grey hair, and less teeth than the average 8-year-old. she'd be a formidable-looking woman if she weren't smiling all the time, and wearing a makeshift chef hat and a white plastic apron. she is beautiful, and friendly, and loves to teach me about cooking. her hot sauce is my favorite, so she takes it out every day, especially for me. i couldn't figure out why i had perpetually bad breath until she showed me how she made it today. hot peppers, an entire clove of garlic, and some milk. if that doesn't leave aftersmell i don't know what will.
yesterday i visited the hippie market and wandered downtown asuncion. we saw everything from palaces to slumhouses made of sheets of plastic, which were incidentally right next to one another. we ate the best chipa in paraguay (riki told me so, and i believed it when i tasted it!), and had fresh passionfruit juice. downtown asuncion is really something, many old beautiful buildings that hold a lot of history.
tonight i'm off to a paraguayan wedding, at a pub? we'll see what this brings!
hope you're staying warm in the white stuff,
much love

Yesterday I awoke to go "lend my services", ha, such a joke, to an organization called "Alto Refugio". It is a drop-in centre for people with HIV/AIDS, and they offer support groups, childcare and meals for those visiting the AIDS clinic at the hospital, dental care, and a host of other services for those affected by HIV or AIDS.

I started out by arriving punctually at 8am (i'd like to take credit but riki's mom is the complete reason i was there on time), and meeting Dave, who told me that all the ladies in charge were gone for the day. He hadn't been aware that I was coming that day, and was the only english-speaker in the house.

It turned out that all the childcare ladies had gone away together and, as a result, I was the one left in charge.
I was skeptical, being that I didn't know the kids, the language, the rules, and i was the only adult. I was getting stressed, but then I got pooped on by a rather sloppy little girl (who later mushed her drool-y hands on my face and giggled), and I came to the conclusion i often do when faced with overwhelming new experiences when travelling: laugh or cry. So I laughed.
Why waste a minute on frustration when you're having a once in a lifetime experience? Besides, poo washes off. (The smell lingers, though, I tell you).

Today I returned to Alto Refugio to do haircuts... and ended up doing haircuts ALL day long! It was awesome. And a great way to practise my spanish. Yes, my spanish that doesn't exist. That's the one.

I tried a few new Paraguayan things today to add to my list: chipa, a bread made from mandioca flour and filled with cheese, sopa Paraguaya, a sort of cornbread, and Guarana Fanta, Paraguay's answer to root beer. I've also tried the essential empanadas, dulce de leche, mandioca, and just had a cup of hot cocido( pretty sure i said that wrong: the other day i said i really liked naps instead of this hot cocido drink. i also used the word for horse instead of the word for hair). Riki and I finished off tonight with the epic Paraguayan experience of watching The Big Bang Theory (an american sitcom. this was a joke.)

now my little brain is ready to wilt, so i will talk to you later!
buenes noches and schlope schon(?)

-becki