Unexpected Awesomeness

Snow-covered mountains surround Arequipa

As Fernando could only host us part of the time, last night we moved to a hostel. I believe I can now assuredly say that I have officially reached the age where I am over hostels. WAY over them. I’ve done lots of hostels in my day, I’ve done lots of things way worse than hostels in my day, and I have survived all of them. I’ve survived bathrooms that make me want to gag (and I mean literally gag), beds where I’ve slept on a towel on top of the covers as I didn’t want to touch any part of the actual bed, sharing rooms with 2-10 strangers, spiders, rats, odors, filth and rooms where I have opted not to shower versus using the bathroom as I figured I would actually come out cleaner that way. I’ve survived it all. And I know that I can do it. And now I’m over it. Now I want clean, crisp sheets and hot water and a shower where I don’t feel that I will contract an untreatable disease if I don’t wear flip flops into it. I want natural light and wifi that doesn’t shut off and on every 3 minutes (again, I’m being literal) and to not have to turn the lights off at 11 and tiptoe and grope around in the dark after that so I don’t wake up my stranger roommates. I don’t need 5-star luxury, but I also don’t want to contract hepatitis by using a bathroom, either, so let it be known that my hostel days are behind me!

With good ol' Ekeko who, if you leave him a
small token, will grant your wish



Baby llamas. Say it together now: aaaaaahhh.

We went to see Juanita, a frozen Inca girl who was discovered in the nearby mountains in 1995. She was offered as a sacrifice to the mountain in hopes that it would appease it (the Incas considered mountains gods) and it wouldn’t erupt and destroy their city. Since the discovery of Juanita, there have been four other sacrificed children found, but not in such freakishly good condition. It seems so barbaric, obviously, the idea of sacrificing one’s own children but the children to be sacrificed were selected at birth and spent their short lives knowing their destiny. But it was considered an honor for the family, as well as for the child as it was believed that they were essentially just being ushered in sooner to the afterlife, where they would live with the gods. Today we think of it as barbaric and archaic and yet I’ve been told that it still happens here in Peru, in remote tribes that remain separated from modern society and over which the government has no control. So perhaps not quite as archaic as we think…

The Peruvian version of the clown car. I lost count
around 20 or so...

Laura and I are both pretty committed to eating the local food while in a place (Laura even more than me… she is the one who tried guinea pig, after all) and we try to go the “real” venues such as local restaurants, markets and street vendors. But we had heard about ChiCha, a 5-star restaurant here run by a famous chef that we were told we just HAD to try, so we caved and went all luxurious over lunch. Not only was everything totally scrumptious but it turns out that you can get a 5-star meal here for about $20USD… double score!

Typical hillside neighborhood outside of the city

With (very) full bellies, we braved a tour of the city for the afternoon. Arequipa is pretty big and there was a lot we hadn't seen yet so this was nice as it gave us a more complete picture of the place. It also got us out of the heart of the city, which I really liked. I'm good with cities for about a day or two but then, if on my own, always prefer to get out of them to see the outlying areas as I feel like that's where you see what a country is REALLY like, how the people actually live and what their lives really look like. And today we got to see some of that, how I think the majority of Peruvians actually live. I dig that.

 

A man and his donkey

And in the evening, the coolest (and for me the most unexpected) part of our whole trip began. Laura’s friend Diana, who we met up with last night, has connections at the orphanage (her mom works there) that sends the children’s choir to the States every year so she talked to them and they graciously welcomed Laura and I to stay with them and share a bit in their daily lives here.

Typical houses on the outskirts of Arequipa. An interesting
note is that a LOT of buildings here never get around to
finishing the top floor.

There are 14 girls ranging in age from 4 to 22 and one 13-month old baby boy that live in the home and we had been told to expect a non-stop “beehive of activity”. But we had no idea. The second we walked in the door, the girls started coming up to us giving us besos (kisses) and hugs, jumping into our arms and all talking super animatedly at the same time to us. And yet somehow it wasn’t even a little bit overwhelming. I immediately loved being there and found the whole scene to be completely endearing and it made me want to do nothing but sit and talk to each of them. Which is pretty much how the rest of the evening went. It is these moments where I am most glad to be able to speak Spanish. That I had the ability to sit and really talk to the girls, to laugh with them and express genuine interest in their lives and to be able to answer their questions about mine brings me unspeakable happiness. These are the moments I travel for.

Some of the sweet girls at the orphanage where we're
now staying

LtoR: Heidi, MariLuz, Papi Rick, Maria, Mama Sandra
y Elizabeth



Maria, Mama Rosa y Dulce