Machu Picchu, in case you didn't know.

Tomorrow I'll be taking a picture almost exactly like that one at Machu Picchu. I'm all packed and ready to leave Cusco at about 4:00pm today. After a bus then a train I'll arrive in Aguas Calientes (the city at the foot of Machu Picchu) by about 9:30pm. Then its time to meet with our guide and then catch some sleep. Morning will come real soon because we're climbing up to Machu Picchu—on the road in the picture below—at 5:00 in the morning on Saturday and then spending the day there with some Projects Abroad friends and a great guide (or so we've heard).

Road up to Machu Picchu.

When in North Dakota you're not too surprised if you run into a few people that you know. You might be in Bismarck at a hotel and run into someone you didn't know was going to be there. This doesn't rock your world though, because it's North Dakota and these things happen all the time. I'll come back to this idea.

Before I came to Peru I knew that one of my Spanish professors, Kemerly Moorhouse, would be also be here this summer. She brings students from U Mary down every summer because she's a Spanish professor and native of Peru. Thinking that it would be cool to meet up with her and her students, we talked ahead of time to figure out when they would all be in Peru. It turned out that they were around the beginning of this week and part of last week.

They invited Brandon and I out to dinner with them last Sunday. We were to first meet them at their hotel and then walk to restaurant.

Once we got to the hotel we waited a little bit before my professor appeared. And shortly after my professor appeared… SO DID MATT JOHNSON, who part of my professor's group of students (I found out). I couldn't believe it. Remember when we talked about running into people in North Dakota. The same ins't supposed to apply to Peru. There are just too many people, plus it's in South America where North Dakotans are a novelty.

It was great to see people from home and our dinner of calzones was fantastic, even if it did take an hour for us to get our food. The calzones and company made up for the wait.

This one is being constructed.

You really can't tell what's being built and what's being destroyed around here. But generally, everything looks like it falls into the second category.

Everything is made out of concrete here because I assume it needs to be that way to withstand the rainy summer season. It sounds like it gets very wet and humid during the summers and I am guessing normal wood structures just wouldn't cut it. But I'm not sure.

Guys are smashing concrete with pick axes wherever you look--and at all hours of the day. There's one building down by the Plaza de Armas that has people working on it until about 11:00pm every day. I guess they mean business. It's just hard to tell what kind of business they mean: construction or destruction?

As these buildings are constructed they just look like a dump until they get all polished and paired up. And virtually all of the work is done by hand--even the cement mixing--so they look like a dump for quite some time. Anywhere you look you can find a building in some stage of being built or destroyed which, aesthetically, is a mess but actually it's a sign of progress.

Exhibit: A.

Here in Peru, do you need to use the internet, wash your clothes, and buy some Doritos? There's a shop for that. Even some homes are that shop.

Many people seem to make their living by using the first floor of their house as a make-shift convenience store. Typical wares include soda, water, snacks, bread, and prepaid phone cards. And these wares are usually sprawled all over every inch of wall and counter space available. The owners are clearly not worried about presentation.

And these shops are everywhere. I can walk in any direction from my host family's house and run into one of these shops in under a minute. It's actually very convenient. Maybe too convenient--I can (and do) buy a Coke at any hour of the day. Because that's the other thing: they're open just as long as the owner wants to hang out there. And when you work out of your entry room of your own house, you can hang out there all hours of the day.

Looking in the front doors of the clinic I've been working at.

I have MADE gauze and cotton balls--yes, just like they might have in the 1920's. I betcha they also did that in the Civil War.

Things are different here in Peru. Just a little different. Some of it isn't so bad, because we're pretty wasteful in our healthcare system. But some of it really sketches me out: things like MAKING gauze and cotton balls. I'm not a machine. We have machines for this! There is also a hand towel, singular. There are not hand towels, plural, in the form of paper towels. What you will find is a towel labeled "manos." With this, dry your hands, as so many have before you.

Patient privacy is a thing of the future. As you're cleaning a huge gash or talking about an illness with a patient, another patient might just walk into the room. Or maybe they've been sitting there the whole time because they were there first. Maybe they're passing out after giving a blood sample. Who knows. You couldn't look long enough to find HIPPA.

Gloves. For the birds. There's not really much to say about them and there aren't really that many of them. You use them when you're about to be bled on and that's it. I suppose you also use them when you're preparing a feces sample to be checked out under the microscope.

The lab here is a real lab. You don't place a piece of blood in a spacemachine that tells you all about it. You actually have to spin the blood, take it to dinner, and then manually measure the hematocrit using a plastic instrument. This is actually really beneficial for learning because you are able to physically see what a low or a high hematocrit looks like, for example. You don't get that with a magic-lab-spacemachine in the US.

Also dogs just run in and out of this little clinic as they please. Sometimes kids play with them. Other times people say ch-ch-ch and chase them out. Still other times they just take a nap by the pharmacy window. I don't believe I've stressed that these are wild, street dogs. They don't have collars or houses or Purina. So they just do what they want all the time. All dogs go to heaven.

Some things are the same though. People need shots, people need wounds cleaned, people need nebulizer treatments, and some people need their feces tested for giardia. Those things don't change and the basic treatments and procedures are roughly what you'd expect. But it's what you'd expect if you weren't living in a culture of abundance and surplus. So there are fewer needles, vials, sutures, and you MAKE gauze. You begin to appreciate how much we really have to work with in our hospitals. You've really got to McGyver things here sometimes.

A lot is different but I can agree with some of the differences. Not on an evidence-based level for sure, but on a come-on level perhaps. Like the gloves. In the US, I go through 30 pairs of gloves while asking a patient their name and date of birth. Here I've used about 3 pairs a day. We could really tone down the gloves and for the most part it wouldn't kill us all. It's also refreshing not to have to worry if each patient wants to sue everyone. I'm all for patient privacy, and do my best to maintain it down here, but it's for the patient… not to protect myself from getting sued. That's the way it should be. Also, dogs in the hospital: sign me up.

This last weekend Brandon and I went to Lake Titicaca and took a 2 day tour around three islands: Uros, Amantani, and Taquile. The total tour only cost S/. 75, which comes to about $30. It included all transportation, 3 meals, and lodging. Sick deals, sick deals.

As I tell about the trip, I hope you’ve seen LOST.

We took a bus from Cusco to Puno late Friday night. The bus didn’t crash on the island, but the way our driver careened about it was like crashing for 8 hours straight. Eventually we arrived at about 6:30 in the morning, just as the sun was coming up. A very sales-womanly lady pushed a tour on us (the one I’ve previously mentioned) and it sounded like a good deal so we took it.

After getting picked up from the bus terminal another bus took us to our boat--NOT PENNY’S BOAT. There were about 15 other people on the same tour. Immediately upon sitting down a wandering pan-flutist forced his music on us, and promptly insisted we pay him. In the US we have street performers and sometimes you toss a dollar in their hat if you appreciate what they’ve got going on. Here in Peru they practice a more proactive version. They corner you, then treat you like an ATM. I only had change so that’s all I gave the guy. Also he pan-fluted some Simon and Garfunkle.

And we’re off! The first stop was the floating islands of Uros. They float and you can move the island whenever you need to. You don’t even have to turn the wheel; just lift the anchors.

These islands are made of reeds and roots. There's a particular type of dense, cork-like root that forms the base of the islands. You lash these roots together then you start putting reeds on top. The island we stopped on was 4 feet thick: 1 ½ feet of roots, 3 ½ feet of reeds. The island was 8 years old. Each island can last about 30 to 40 years before it starts sinking into the lake.

The Uros people live in huts like the one in the picture and rarely step foot on solid ground… they know it's best not to leave the island. They survive mostly by fishing and tourism. You're welcome Uros people. They were also very genuine and weren't trying to sell you something every other second.

Me and a hut.

The Island... of Amantani.

Departing from Uros, we set out to find the island Charles Widmore style. It was a 3 hour boat ride to get to Amantani. There were awesome people in our tour, and most of the 3 hours was spent talking to them. An uncle and nephew from Idaho, 2 Australians, 2 French couples, a German, and a girl from the US who's working for an NGO in Lima. Topics of conversation ranged from "Money Ball" to the process of learning languages. It was a good boat ride.

The boat docked at the island… of Amantani at about 1:30 pm. From there we were all given a host family for the night. A French couple (might as well have been Rousseau of LOST and Inspector Clouseau from the Pink Panther), Brandon, and I got a family that seemed to live on the top of the island. Lake Titicaca sits at 12,000 feet above sea level. That's about 2 miles closer to the moon than any part of North Dakota. At the family's house in the clouds we were served fantastic soup, potatoes, cheese, and tea. The soup was a potatoey-vegetabley-spice deal that was very filling. Then came potatoes (of a variety that is only grown on this island), cheese, bread, and coca tea. So good.

Our host house.

During lunch, my friend the Tourism General (Benjamin Linus) of Amantani paid a visit. He smiled too much and was super fishy. He told us, in Spanish, that "Your tour guide doesn't want to pay the full 30 soles per person for the host family and rather he's only paying 25." He went on to imply that if the guide only paid the 25, he would need us to pay 30 so the family would get their money for hosting us. That math didn't add up. 30-25=5, so if that story were true, we'd only need to pay an extra 5 soles, not 30. We never had to pay the 30 extra soles so it seems the tourism dude was just trying to squeeze more money out of us. Either way it's not a lot of money, but we had been assured by the tour company that everything was paid for. It's really tiring when it seems everyone is trying to scam you.

After lunch we met back up with the tour group and started a trek up to Pachatata at about 4:30, which is a temple to father earth. It's at the top of the island. Lake Titicaca is the second highest plateau in the world and the Pachatata temple is the highest point on the lake at 13,350 feet. It's hard to explain how tiring it is to walk up-and-up-and-up at that elevation. You're hardly doing any work at all, but you're out of breath the whole time.

The long walk up the mountain.

The walk is incredibly exhausting and it just seemed to keep going and going and going. It was the Energizer Bunny of walks up island mountains.

View of the mountainside.

We arrived at the top just before 6:00. Right as the sun was setting. We didn't get to go in the temple but that was alright. Someone must have captured the smoke monster in there.

Sunset from Pachatata.

Supper was similar to lunch and just as great. We had a tea similar to coca, but mintier. It's called muña. Similar to coca it helps to treat headaches and stomach aches. Afterward we spent a long time checking out the stars and talking to Rousseau and Clouseau. They were very impressed by all the stars, because they can't see them through the light pollution in France. Even though we're in the deep deep south, you can still see the big dipper. The little dipper, however, is just below the horizon.

Host house's kitchen in the morning.

Still on Amantani breakfast was pancakes, YEEHAW, and bread and coffee. Afterward we boarded the boat and headed off towards another island: Tequile (might as well be Hydra island though). All of these islands (minus Uros) are mountains as well as islands. At Tequile we hiked up the mountain and across the island--just like John Locke--for a good hour before we got to the main plaza. On the way we saw people farming and just being normal island people. We also passed the Flame Dharma station.

The Flame Dharma station.

Once we got to the plaza we looked around a bit and then went to a house where we got an explanation of the different weaving that the island is known for. I guess they're famous for their fine weaving, as fine as that tapestry Jacob's always weaving. Afterward we had lunch of trout, great soup, rice, bread, french fries, and tea. I'm getting to be a big tea fan.

After about a million steps down the other side of the island we boarded the boat and headed back to Puno. Thus ended the great trip to Lake Titicaca.

Woman making chiriuchu.

First let's talk about "chiriuchu." It's the main food at the festival that I'm about to talk about. It is chicken, tortillas, rice, other stuff, and whole guinea pigs! Guinea pigs. If you look at the above picture you can see the guinea pigs off to the left. They still have their teeth.

No festival is complete without tons of live music.

The Corpus Christi festival was two Thursdays ago. I don't know what it's a festival of, I just keep hearing that "it's very Catholic."  Anyway it consists of TONS of people, throngs of them, carrying huge statues of saints around the Plaze de Armas. The place was packed. And some of these saint statues were threatening to crush the 20-30 people who were hoisting them around. No procession would be complete with out music and flags, and Corpus Christi is in no short supply of either.

A bunch of people at the Corpus Christi Festival.

During the festivities, one saint caught my eye. This saint rode a horse, how chivalrous. This saint was also crushing an Incan. You have to ask "why?" And I did. What happened was the Incans had the Spanish surrounded, so many 100s of years ago, in the very plaza that the saint statues were being carried around in now. The Incans had a sure victory on their hands until… this saint--Saint Sebastian I think--came storming in on a horse from somewhere and started just destroying Incans: crushing, stomping, slashing. Now this was a saint! And the Spanish ended up winnning this battle and Saint Sebastian was ever remembered as an Incan crusher. Can you imagine! Let's see that pass as politically correct in the US, shall we.

The saint, crushing an Incan.

Look at the baby!

Really I'm having a great time in Peru although these posts don't really reflect that at all. Most days nothing goes wrong and it's pretty sweet being in South America when you wake up. I'll have more positive stories soon... they are written and scheduled.

Kind of a lot has happened to me and Peru is probably not the problem. These things would happen to me no matter where I was. Good luck just haunts me.

But specifically, I've had a case of the get-up-and-goes, the excuse-me-immediatelies, the runs… if you would. But I suggest you don't. So after about 5 days of dealing with symptoms I decided to go into the doctor last Monday. After hours of waiting, I had become the administrator of a schedule of 5 different types of medications. I had pills, syrups, and pills. This was because I was the host of two infections. 1) Giardia… and what a treat. 2) Something else… but nothing special obviously, because I don't remember what it is.

Currently I'm on day 6-ish of taking these myriad pills and things have been looking up, and then down, and then back up again. By this point I can assure you that I'm getting better. Eventually I'll be back to 100%, or I'll be dead. Let's hope for the best.

It was at a mini-bank here that I parted with my card.

Today I got some money out of a machine. It was an ATM! And that's the best part too. Because what happened next was something that I didn't realize for another hour. And that was: Ah $#*!. I left my debit card in the machine.

So I ran back to the grocery store (the ATM's home) and into the mini-bank (the ATM's bedroom). There was a person using the ATM so clearly my card had abdicated it: $#*!. Then I waited in line at the mini-bank to ask the teller if she had seen or recieved a lost debit card. The wait started very patiently. Then, slowly, just as slowly as the teller and her customer were jarring on, I lost and lost my patience. I may have tapped my foot. Finally their slow (lento, in Spanish) exchange ended and I was next. I feigned patience again and asked if she had seen or recieved a debit card, I had lost one.

She told me "those aren't our machines," which did not answer my question. I explained myself a little differently and she assured me that the machines were not the bank's. Having waited a long time to hear this information she closed by telling me "you have to call your bank." Knowing this previously, I left.

Thank you, helpful teller.

Next, things stopped getting interesting as I contacted Tricia and my dad and had them block my card (they were much more helpful than the teller we've been getting to know). I also transferred most of the money out of my checking account just to be safe.

For some reason I was just reminded of Great Expectations. Benefactor anyone?