Did I say goodbye to William properly? Parting sometimes had its challenges with the way we were moving in out of our own schedules and the schedules of the buses, flights and hikes we needed to make it to our next cities.
I had booked an abbreviated tour of Colca Canyon to his full day hike. I have a misty memory of it seeming way too early to say an official goodbye and when you hope to see people again in the next leg of your continental travel, goodbye gets even murkier. Many of us were not returning home just yet so couldn’t our paths continue to coincide. Feeling a bit of resistance to old routines and responsibilities, doing the work of giving our time to organizations continued to be more appealing.
We were equally reluctant when “see you later” was so much easier. Still knowing this might be the last time for then or for a long while, sunglasses doubled as protectants and a means to hide the abundant red eyes. One of the hardest times was leaving my first Peruvian home when the one exiting made their official goodbye speech during the regular weekday morning briefing.
We did our best, not too bad, treating the person to a special time maybe in the form of their favorite part of the city or their favorite local cuisine. Sandboarding was one goodbye and fortunately I did get to reconnect with those friends but there was always a worry.
I think the rub was not particularly always knowing how the next partition of travel would turn out, what days would correspond, where we would unwittingly linger, and where we would be mesmerized by more friends to add to the social media rolodex.
I think a lot of us must have worried if this would be the last time. Once the volunteering and backpacking was done, how often and how far would we be able to return. Staying in touch and follow up visits have not escaped us as much as we might have thought and the last time I made it all the way back to the very beginning of this adventure was not too long ago. I think too long – but still a hopeful glimpse in how it can always be possible.
Growing up, you one day hear when someone says or implies “life is not easy”. You believe it. The song also says, “no one ever promised you a rose garden”.
Yet, when it’s good, it’s really good. You know this to be true on some big scale perhaps or in simple moments just as a small child starts out being comforted by the time simply spent with him or her. They are in awe at the magic tricks adults seem to perform in their presence with toys or a simple game of peak-a- boo.
Viñales, Cuba
One day you get it. You could be anywhere with a certain person, and you could be having the best time and technically not doing anything. You know the people, including yourself, are making life more interesting. In our way we are causing what is seemingly nothing to mean something. Adversely, a dazzling venue or event can lack so much luster when you are not clicking with anyone in the room.
You know all of this to be true when you could be sitting outside just about anywhere, having a refreshing drink, eating ice cream, or getting caught up in a conversation and maybe even forgetting to eat. Next thing, you and your present company realize the two or more of you have gotten hungry. Next, you end up just about anywhere, in a place that is perhaps too overpriced (no matter) or a unique hole in the wall which you could have never preplanned.
These are the relationships I lean into at home and mirror in my connections abroad.
This especially speaks to my time with other travel volunteers and tourists. One random traveler meets another (that’s me) and there’s the combination of simultaneously experiencing new people and new places in what is sometimes quite the random life. Even the mundane moments play out differently.
I recall leaving Arequipa to get to Cusco. Before starting my second South American volunteer selection, I decided to go to Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu. (I would end up sightseeing with other volunteers later as well between enjoying the nightlife and everyday life, but I wouldn’t know that yet.)
The random circle gets a little wider when traveling with a friend. As a collective I’ve also made some interesting connections.
The circle grows and you find yourself having dinner with another person from Europe, North America, South America etc. who was probably just a stranger 3 hours ago and the odds go up exponentially when you more so go the hostel or local homestay route.
There is always something to do but being around your crowd of family or friends or just one other confidante, we know there does not necessarily have to be anything to do at all.
I quickly realized it was time to get back to just depending on me as I was preparing to travel from the Peruvian city of Arequipa to Cusco, Peru.
Although I was going to miss having a temporary travel partner, this was going to be a good change. Self-reliance had been my typical method to and from my South American destinations, though my clear intentions were to consistently meet up with people.
It
was especially important that I get back to solo traveling – because that
allowed me the freedom to diligently follow the paths that I found dear. This synced
with my call to community and volunteering. It has also added to the solo
travel tips I have to share with you (can’t forget those along with my random thoughts
and experiences).
There
was more that made me realize how important it was for me to get back to solo
destination travel. I realized it was also rather easy to develop codependency
(both lightweight and not so lightweight). I took note when my travel friend had
asked another adventurer if she was traveling alone. His question held the awe
of already sensing the answer, and I quickly needed to remind myself that, hey,
I too, had begun like her. (Naturally, like us, she was making friends along
the way). I reminded myself that this is also how I would continue to the next
spot and much later to the Bolivian cities of La Paz, Sucre and Cochabamba. It’s
sometimes too easy to dismiss your own journey. (literally and figuratively). Don’t
let others help you do it either, even when it’s not their intention.
Naturally (biologically),
we do depend on others to survive and participate properly in life, but a good
amount of self-reliance is important as well. An international travel partner
can provide a good buddy system. You can look out for one another’s safety, and
literally share the load of convenient travel gear you need like insect
repellent and sunscreen. You can provide each other with moral support and
crafty suggestions.
It was
simply that I needed to rediscover my own gumption. I needed a reminder of how self-assured,
friendly, outgoing and diligent I could be in a foreign country and so, although
I had enjoyed his company, I found that my preference was much more in line
with the comradery that came with forming bonds in the local and volunteering
community. This would be followed by challenging myself to do more. (Of course,
this is not to say that socializing and appreciating my surroundings was ever
overlooked. Additionally, this mostly just describes my persona during those South
American traveling days. I like to think of the modern me as a better more
well-rounded travel companion).
As
far as volunteer goals went in Cusco, I was planning to connect to a specific
organization that had captured my heart, one that I had already imagined assisting
with in some way. Unfortunately, once I did get to this point, I didn’t have
the benefit of connecting with its very long-time volunteers. This was the
complete opposite of the group I consider to be pretty much kinfolk – my fellow Pisco Sin
Fronteras volunteers. I found this to be a complete change to the
grittiness and beauty that mutually linked me to them, but due to that very bond,
however, I could easily understand how this group had underwent a similar
experience in Cusco.
Their
clique was really just about six people, but it was intriguingly tight. I respected
that. I became a lot closer to the newly arrived volunteers and this is not to
say that the several of us, newbies, did not connect on some level with the veterans.
We just laughingly noticed that there was a barrier we would not be crossing. Only
certain circumstances showcased their concern such as a physical attraction to
one of us or noting that we were about to traverse into some physically
dangerous situations. Never mind our group fundraising activities, nights out
dancing, laughing or chatting. Bonding was fleeting and I’m actually glad nothing can compare to what
I experienced in Pisco.
I purposely
don’t mention the name of the organization in Cusco, though its mission is equally
as outstanding as the ones held by PSF and Proyecto Horizonte.
(I can include special details if you are especially interested and inbox me here. I’m certain a lot
has changed since my time there. I can share what I know.)
Pausing for a moment, before I go deeper into my volunteer stint in Cusco, I will throw out an overview of my initial days in this breezy, coldish part of Peru (I was there during rainy season). My main plans included Machu Picchu, sites like Sacred Valley, cathedrals, museums, ruins and more. I would need to strategically structure my time before traveling into the more, not so safe area of Cusco where I would be volunteering as a teacher to underserved children. I think I did a pretty decent job of managing the time I had. Still I wished for more and I’ve thought about living there for a few months each year.
Mapping
out a decent bus ride from Arequipa was the first step. I was set with a nice
bus company (word-of-mouth reviews are gold), and having found a properly
reviewed hostel on hostel.com, I was even more set. I must include, however,
that while I was happy with the overall hostel amenities that included
cleanliness and hot water, I was a bit put off by its risky location. There was
a significant stretch from the Plaza de Armas (the main square) to my dwelling
and this also just happened to mean it was in a less safe area. I was always
reassured to see the tall guard standing stoic at the end of my street (and it didn’t
hurt that he was also handsome) but it would have been even more comforting if there
was another guard or two located along the way.
This
brings to mind some suggestions that I feel were beneficial to me and as I plan
to put together a more comprehensive list, I will share them here. My initial advice,
to an especially solo person, would be to always move with a purpose – even
when you are just a little bit acclimated to your surroundings. I think doing
that to the best of my ability while remaining cordial and open was key. Even
if my purpose was leisurely and given to the spontaneous track, I think it served
me well to walk steadily, not too slow, and as if I had a clear place to be. A
genuine friendliness with local people, exhibiting respect and having humility
seemed to create good vibes as well.
You find there are a considerable number of people who freely offer information and advice. You can compare notes from your encounters and unpack the lot of it for yourself. Amicable relationships with people from the area sometimes even translate into them looking after you in a familial way, but like anywhere in the world, being alone and a novice can also open you up to individuals that would never have your best interest in mind. Overall, politeness and greetings go a long way in the right circumstances. After all, you are in a place in which you most likely want to be immersed. The rule remains however to always be alert and don’t ever talk yourself out of your instincts.
My unease
with my hostel location did eventually settle my decision to find another place
within a few days. The local owner of the hostel, that I was leaving, was very
engaging. He had daily inquired about my travel and was taken with my previous
and future plans. (He was surprised that I had been staying in Pisco and not
the capital of Lima, prior to this). I just did not have the heart to tell him
that I was going to stay in another location for a few days, before my next
volunteer gig. He assumed I was going there straight away. As a host, he was great,
and his place was great, and I couldn’t offend him with just that one amenity
he could not offer. That would be feeling more secure.
I
found a really nice place near La Plaza de las Armas and it was more like a
hotel than a hostel. I was easily comfortable venturing out on nearby city
tours, visiting historic sites and viewing everyday tourist attractions. The
biggest trip I would take was my mini trek to Machu Picchu.
Upcoming: Adventures and Misadventures reaching my first Wonder
of the World
My apologies, Arequipa. The memory of you is etched in my mind but not as much as it should be. I’m sorry. Although I do remember exploring and going to sacred sites, I don’t recall the details as much as I would like.
I believe you threw me off initially with how you were oh so
touristy. I hadn’t yet been to such a touristy Peruvian city. I was fresh from
a city that was much more affected by us volunteers than tourists and while I
could see the definite effects that we outsiders had on the inside; I wasn’t
ready for how you; Arequipa could be so tourist centric. So, there I had it,
going from being a voluntaria (volunteer), navigating the city as one of many driven
helpers to suddenly bus-voyaging it to a place that primarily welcomed me as an
extranjera-foreigner, albeit not the everyday American one. The label came out morena
and it made for some intriguing twists.
Here we were. One of the co-volunteers from Pisco had taken
the bus trip with me. We had decided to leave from there together. This was
actually my first long experience pairing up with someone for my international
travel venture. So far, I had been going it alone on my major preparations and although
my destinations would be to networks of people, I had depended mainly on me for
prep and logistics. That is how I would later continue. My current fellow
traveler coincidentally happened to be one of the few American PSF volunteers. (Most of our new
PSF friends were from Europe, but that varied a little as well).
I rather liked having a travel partner. He had prompted me
to pull myself out of my second to last bout of Pisco belly. This would have
been my last experience with it, except that I was gifted with it again, a few
months ago as I was
revisiting the city. However, a little illness was more than worth all
the goodness that came with revisiting my old volunteer stomping ground and Pisqueño
friends. The recent trip would have been absolutely perfect save for me lackadaisically
eating or drinking the something that had made me ill.
When my travel-buddy-to-be suggested that we leave for
Arequipa together, he double checked to see if I might want to wait until I was
feeling better, but I told him Nah. I suspected that it didn’t make much
difference and like him I was ready to see some more Peruvian sites since I had
now let myself get pretty curious from the descriptions I continued to hear.
The guide books had nothing on what was relayed in person. I previously had planned
to spend the majority of my time volunteering and only visit Machu Picchu and
nearby areas. However, I was now drawn towards the ruins, magnificent nature,
and additional sites now within a country’s reach. Though Huacachina was touristy
and just a few visits away, while in Pisco, it didn’t have the feel of Arequipa.
Now, imagine how it suddenly startled my system and you can easily imagine how
the feel of tourism in Cusco’s main square blew me away. Fortunately, I had
many opportunities to get off that beaten track.
As far as me only partially remembering the Arequipa region
– I do especially recall touring Colca Canyon with my new travel friend. We had
also been taken on a deeper tour that acquainted us with the little Incan girl,
now deemed the Frozen Ice Maiden. She had been one of the young child sacrifices.
She was raised for this. She needed to be a virgin, treated nobly, and following
her uphill journey to pacify the Gods, she would be given her last portions of
coca leaves and other intoxicants, with the intent of dulling her final moments.
Her body had been discovered by an anthropologist. With the melting of her ice
tomb (via a nearby erupting volcano), she became another microscope to the
history of a premiere civilization.
We watched a short film, before viewing the maiden. (Her
body is usually displayed in the Museo Santuarios Andinos but sometimes others sit
in her place). There are the additional mummies to be seen there as well. My
mind wondered and wandered about her because with all these adornments around
her resting place and the accompanying rituals, I knew that her community had
not anticipated that she would appear anywhere else other than where they had
placed her. Yet, I knew this was a huge piece of what connects us all. I wondered
about the ritual itself – what her community wanted versus what she would have
wanted. There is a lot to think about, relating to how we all move about the
world, now as well, and I would know little, if anything, had she not been
discovered. Coming to occupy a space that shares infinite energy and stories serves
to rock me from time to time. It could be in the hometowns of my sweet departed
parents or somewhere like this, only just hearing a story.
I took an additional city tour by myself one day. I was
taking this abbreviated one since my friend would be taking a longer one that
involved hiking the canyon. (Suddenly I’m recalling he and I also wandering
through the intricate structure of a former monastery – but then again there’s
that vagueness creeping in). I chose the additional half-day city tour to
facilitate my stopover in Arequipa since I didn’t have much time. I would be staying
in my next destination of Cusco for a couple of months, where I would be volunteering
and taking in an even more picturesque environment that meant unique animals,
ruins, city tours, live music, and gracious and mutually curious encounters.
My expedited half-day venture began with the bus just
seemingly materializing outside my hostel in the early morning hours. (It is
quite nice, however, that these tour groups typically include a pick up at every
purchaser’s various hostel or hotel and I’m intrigued by how patient the
drivers seem as they get out and knock at the doors of delayed trip goers). I
was ready already. This was probably because I had some unhealthy paranoia of
being left.
I had quietly left my temporary travel partner who would be
venturing out later. He was still asleep and talking in it. It was quite fascinating
that he did have full unconscious conversations (He had forewarned me.) Every
time I tried to get involved in one, it was quite clear that him suddenly thinking
I was within his dream wasn’t how that worked at all. Darn.
Here, I end my somewhat vague Arequipa-stay with some final apologies. Sorry for just an acquaintanceship. Though I want to think a part of you is etched in my mind, I fear that sometimes when I picture your Plaza de las Armas (your main square), I am actually inserting pictures of my life in Cusco, (understandably so, since it came to be more of a temporary home to me). Yet, I pause here to thank you for indulging me for one of my New Year’s Eve’s and giving me the chance to pass some extended time with a PSF friend. I appreciate you being the place that dissipated some lasting ill feelings and showing me my first rental hostels where I could chillax. I’m glad I came to pass the time with even more people who shifted from being strangers in a matter of minutes to being adventurous partners and kindred spirits. Indeed, I am grateful you gave me one more life chapter to write.
