Finalmente!

¿Que tal amigos?

Much has transpired since the last update, over a year ago. Here's the recap:

My last month in Peru was spent traveling. First, I went back to the coast for one last plate of cevíche at my favorite restaurant in Huanchaco, Estrella de la Marina. From there I went to up to Huaraz and Yungay – the Cordillera Blanca and location of Huascarán. At 22,204 ft, it is the second highest peak in South America. (This valley is a must see if/when you visit.) Also nearby is Chavín de Huantar – a temple structure built by a feline-god worshiping cult around 800 BC. Certainly some of my favorite artwork I’ve seen here.

From there, I hopped on a bus to Lima to meet my parents. We flew to Iquitos, and spent three days, 50 miles down the Amazon River. The sights and sounds of the primary jungle can’t even be described, but here are some of my favorite pics:

After that we traveled up into the Andes to Cuzco. It’s certainly the most touristy and expensive city in Peru, but its beauty is worth the price. It’s also home to Cuzqueña – my new favorite beer in the world. At nearly 1200 ft, Cuzco was the main Incan capital. During the colder months, back in the day, the royalty and their entourage would travel from there to their winter home -- Machu Picchu. Like the Amazon, words fall way short of conveying how truly spectacular it really is. Here’s a visual aid:

I’ll definitely return to Machu Picchu some day. However, next time I hope to make the journey via the 4-day and 14,000ft Inca Trail. Also worth mentioning is the beautiful little town of Pisac, located in the Sacred Valley. It’s a great place to hike, shop, relax, or play volleyball with the local kids.

We flew back to The States together, after a final couple days in Lima. It was sure nice to be back home. Home – sitting back on a comfy couch, California burrito in hand, watching the news or a movie (in English). Home – where I have amazing friends whom I can actually have profound conversations with (also in English). Home – where I have the best and most handsomest dog in the world (… and he has a pretty good English vocabulary too).

Of course, being back in the ol’ US of A was a bit of a shock. The first thing that really struck me was how incredibly fat we are. Peru has it’s share of “gordos”, but for Christ’s sake people …we’re downright embarrassing. And you can’t imagine the contrast between dealing with Peruvians long-term and then suddenly being, face to face with some spiteful whore, harassing me from behind Miami Airport’s American Airlines counter at 5 AM. That was a shocker. (I don’t think I’d dropped the f-word at anybody directly since my last commute up the 805. …Certainly never twice.) My first instinct was to turn and run back to the next plane south. (And however possible, grab a decent hamburger, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a block of Tillamook White Cheddar.) …But again, once back in SD, with family and friends, it was nice to be home.

Well, that could have been the end of my “Great Escape”, but you all know me -- I’m sometimes a wee bit tardy. It took me a while, but I managed to get a good fill of burgers, Jack Daniel’s, and I even went to the town of Tillamook. Then I packed up all my essentials; put it in the back of a Toyota Tundra; drove to San Francisco; and put it all on a boat bound for Lima. Finally, I got back on that plane and headed south.

This is why:

As my time in Yantaló was nearing its end, I was looking for jobs back home via Internet. Obviously, the timing probably couldn’t have been worse to be entering the job market. All options seemed to lead to some air-conditioned veal-fattening pen. To the contrary, the number of options that I had here in the jungle was increasing with every day. …And not one involved a commute, a time clock, or “business casual”. It was clear, that for me, the “The Land of Opportunity” had changed hemispheres.

So, with a little luck (and what possibly could be considered insider trading in the US), I grabbed up a nice chunk of land, just before it was announced publicly that the location of the hospital would be moving right next-door. An unobstructed, 360º view, with the Andes to the west and the Rio Mayo to the east? …Adjacent to what will be the first sustainable hospital in South America? …That I get to help build. And my only real cost, other than the ridiculously cheap land, is a self-imposed obligation to help improve the health and education of some people that have been nothing short of wonderful to me.

My plan is to build eco-friendly (but still comfy) bungalows for the visiting doctors to rent while they are here working. The nearest hotel is about 30 minutes away. And that’s on a good day -- when there’s actually a taxi available and the roads aren’t washed out between here and Moyobamba. I think most would prefer the 200-meter walk from my place.

On the remainder of the land I’m gonna grow cacao – that’s “chocolate” for the Castillano-impaired. My hope is to hook up with some chocolate boutique back in the US. (I think marketing 100% Amazonian cacao, with 25-50% of the proceeds going to the hospital here, has potential. Especially when organic and “Fair Trade” certified.) Sure, the US economy may be crap for a while, but people will always buy chocolate. …Especially if they’re contributing to a worthy cause at the same time.

So yeah, …I guess I’m technically gonna be an ex-pat construction contractor and laborer; a hotel-owner/operator; as well as a chocolate farmer. …Oh, and an English teacher too. Random, huh? That cliché interview question: “Where do see yourself in 5 years?” …Who’d a thunk it? But, I look at it like this: Where else can I live cheaply yet comfortably; work at home in a beautiful location; with no neighbors; be able to have a real positive impact on my community; reduce my carbon footprint to almost nothing; and still buy (or admittedly rip) music on-line? Except for the lack of a taco shop down the street and a couple of Pioneer CDJ1000’s, it’s pretty much my idea of paradise.

Unfortunately my initial steps toward paradise kicked off at a snail’s pace. After what seemed a lifetime of customs bureaucracy, I finally received my box of belongings and my truck. However, four months later and I'm still waiting for the license plates. Hence the truck is inoperable in Lima.

Lima. Ugh. Where do I begin? Lima is crazy. It’s like Tijuana with 9 million people. (For reals – that’s how many people live there.) And 90% of ‘em act like tweekers -- racing around in circles, taking one step forward for every two steps back. It gives the initial impression that time is important, but ultimately the Latin American stereotypes prevail. There are some incredibly beautiful parts to Lima, but the majority of the populace lives in real poverty and ignorance. Fortunately, I am lucky to have met some amazing people there, who helped keep me sane for the three months I suffered in bureaucratic hell. I waited. Heard lame excuses. And waited. Got more excuses. And waited some more. …And finally, like after my inaugural night in Lima back in ‘08 (when I left hung-over and food-poisoned), I headed for the jungle feeling like damaged goods. The score now: Lima 2, Gringo 1. But there WILL be rematch. ...I have to go back for the truck after all.

But finally, now a whole year after my last blog, I’m back -- in the air warm, with a Cusqueña at hand and the familiar choir of animals and insects. They’re all providing a familiar comfort as I refine my plan to reach my aforementioned “paradise”.

Despite having been here a short time, I’ve managed to be pretty productive. I’ve got myself a studio in Moyo now (for a whopping $50/mo), and have a room in Yantaló ($10/mo) – where I store my tools and work stuff. I located all my property lines (easier said than done here), and started to clear the land where my cacao trees will be. I’d hoped to do all the work solo, but due to time-constraints (plus 40 yrs of wear-and-tear), I’ve got a crew of about 10 guys, who ferociously hack away at the brush with machetes from 5AM to noon. I just measure out their individually assigned plots the afternoon before. It’s amazing how fast those little guys work. My only advantage in this arena is height, so consequently I get to trim or remove the trees left in their wake. Overall, the work is fun, but both mentally and physically taxing. It feels great after being stagnant for so long (in both Lima and CA). It’s even better when you look up and see things like this:

I may have gotten off to a rough start this time around, but finally I’m reminded what it was all for. It is so exciting to be back. There’s certainly lots of work to be done. However, I’m really looking forward to what lies ahead.

Hablamos pronto.

Abrazos.

Back On The Radar

Hola amigos! Feliz Navidad, Feliz Ano Nuevo and any other felizes I might have missed the past couple months. It´s been a while, but I´m back and charging into 2009.

It´s been pretty busy here, south of the equator, so I haven´t had much opportunity to keep you updated. ...Well, I actually did write up a rather long rant a few weeks back, but decided not to post it, for fear of 1) being asked by the Foundation to resign my position here; and/or 2) being committed by friends and family upon my return.

However, I just got back from a month-long adventure, so I´ll catch you up on that first and leave the business stuff for later. (The travel pictures are more interesting too, and I know that´s what you really want anyway.)

So, I set out from Moyobamba December 13th, on a 26 hour bus ride to Lima. In addition to seeing my first glimpse of the Andes up close and personal, I was treated to a fine example of Peruvian entertainment. We started our ride with the best 80´s compilation I´d ever heard – great songs, perfectly mixed. Then we watched half of White Fang 2 in English. Once that started skipping they put on some 1950´s Disney-esque musical -- in Spanish. We got a few hours of cumbia in between that and a horrible Jackie Chan flick -- also in Spanish. After that we watched Commando. (Despite the bad voice overdub, it was great to see the Governator in his prime. Dialog was never a strong point in his movies anyway.) Then we got to hear Tracy Chapman´s debut CD ...three times. We wrapped up the journey with Men of Honor (in English), Deathrace (in Spanish, and possibly the most graphic movie I´ve ever seen), and of course more cumbia. Not exactly blockbuster selections but the randomness certainly kept things interesting. If Movil Tours has an entertainment director, I sure hope he gets medication soon.

Since I’d headed straight to Yantalo upon my arrival back in October, it was the first time I seen the northern coast of Peru -- which is completely different from the the jungle side. Nothing but sand and rocks for hundreds of miles. The only thing adding any contrast to the landscape was the thin black strip of asphalt stretched out before us.

Finally, after what seemed like months, I dragged my numb ass off the sweltering bus and out onto the hotter (and much dirtier) streets of Lima. The capital city of 8 million has some nice places, but they are few and far between. Fortunately my hostal was in a cool historical neighborhood and provided great views of the surrounding cathedrals and palaces. Certainly worth the $9 a night.

I unfortunately couldn’t get my Brazilian Visa in the couple days I had there, but I did manage to get a Yellow Fever shot for a hundred bucks cheaper than in the States. I also got ahold of a friend who used to work as a chef at Puerto Mirador, so she gave me a tour of some of the better hang-outs and restaurants.

Unlike my first visit to Lima, I was a bit more lucid and successfully made it to the airport on time, where I caught a flight to Buenos Aires. (Which I was very fortunate to receive as a Christmas gift from my Dad and Pam, …and which made this all possible -- Thanks again! Love you!)

Once I made it to Buenos Aires, however, my luck was not so good. First, I’d forgotten to write down the address of my hotel, so I had to wait over an hour to use the airport’s internet service. After finding the location and a cab to take me there, it turned out they were closed for repairs. I had reservations for the place for New Years, so I figured it’d be easy to get a room at the same place then. Apparently not. I had a back up hotel and address too, but they had gone out of business recently. Strike two. However, a few hours (and a sore back) later, I managed to find an affordable room in San Telmo, an older, but bustling part of town. Even better, that night I found a nearby milonga with a live band. The setting was perfect -- an old dark and balmy theatre. And the music … WOW! The first crunch of the accordions and I almost peed. Certainly the ideal place to grab a drink, prop up my aching feet, and watch an impressive group of tango dancers.

The luck of the night before was short-lived. When I made it to the Brazilian Consulate the next morning, they also told me they could not give me my Visa in time. So, disappointed by a pretty negative initial impression of Buenos Aires, and doubting I’d actually make it to Brazil at all, I packed up and took the first bus I could to the northernmost town in Argentina, Puerto Iguazu.

I’d always wanted to go to Buenos Aires. I don’t know why exactly, but it’s always peaked my curiosity. I suppose for a place to claim the birthright of tango, I imagined it had to be steeping in style and have a relentless passion for art and music. Admittedly, I set the bar very high. What I found however, was a beautiful city inhabited by a remarkably non-descript mix of people. The only notable characteristic to me was their blatant inconsideration. (It’s as bad as Los Angeles, which I thought was impossible.) The women there are especially horrible. I wanted to make a couple t-shirts before I returned for NYE, reading: “Don’t flatter yourself – I just need directions” and “You’d almost be pretty if you smiled.”

So when I made it to Puerto Iguazu, I thought for sure my bus had crashed en route and I’d just arrived in Heaven. First, I found a nice, honest cab driver. (Reason enough to convince me I’d died.) Next, when we rounded the drive to The Hostel Inn, I was temporarily blinded by the glare off the huge (and clean) swimming pool. After 18-hours seated next to an obese woman and her flailing, screaming baby, the water was just what I needed to wash away the built-up sweat and impatience. Furthermore, when I got out of the cab, my ears immediately registered Daft Punk Alive – my favorite 74 minutes of recorded music ever. Like a moth to the flame I went straight to the source – a poolside bar, tended by a beautiful and very fit, 6-foot tall Spanish girl with dreadlocks and wearing a thong, serving 2 for 1 caperinhas. It was only when I reached my room later and met my suitemates – all European guys – I realized that, I wasn’t really in Heaven.

The next day myself and three of the roomies (Paul the Irishman, Tom the Belgian, and Brehl the Swiss) set out for Puerto Iguazu Falls – “las tres frontieras” (the three borders). This consolidation of some 270+ waterfalls acts as the natural border between Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay. Unfortunately the hundreds of photos I took and my attempts to convey their magnificence with words cannot even come close to describing the beauty and power that I witnessed there. I’ve been lucky to have gone a lot of places and seen many amazing things in my life. This is certainly one of my favorites of all time. Check it out on line. Better yet, go there. And while your there, take the boat ride at the bottom of the falls. They call it ‘The Baptism’, which is 200% accurate. They’ll get you in amazing spots for photo ops, and then instruct you to put all things of value in the provided dry-lock bags. After that it’s full speed ahead into the downpour. One of the most fun and exhilarating experiences of my life, for sure. And what better way to end an incredible day than with more 2 for 1 caperinhas? …Oh yeah, with 2 for 1 caperinhas and an authentic Argentinean BBQ. Mmmmmm.

The next day was a lazy Sunday spent poolside, free from travel -- except the few yards to my new favorite bar (and bartender -- sorry Mily). It was really nice to not worry about finding a bus, taxi or plane for a day. It was also a treat to speak English for a bit with the other travellers.

The following morning I finally got my Brazilian Visa (in all of four hours and with one document – unlike the three days and loads of paperwork necessary at the other embassies. However, I had to pay $160 bucks for it. But I’d come that far and had reservations already, so I couldn’t turn back at that point. (By the way, they only charge Americans and Australians for entry, because we’re the only ones who charge them.) After a few final hours by the pool I boarded a bus to the border, where I began my 14-hour journey to the beaches of Brazil.


It took a day and a half to actually make it to the beach, but I reached Praia do Rosa and settled down for three days, including Christmas. Spent the days just walking for miles along the coastline with my camera and iPod. The little-known town hasn’t become popular with the tourists yet, but along with it’s beauty, is one of the best surf spots in Brazil. On Christmas I shared this gorgeous, half-mile long beach with about five people. Not very traditional I know, but a very feliz Navidad (it’s “Natal” in Portuguese) for me.

After that, I went north to Florianopolis. I will certainly try to go back there. The beaches were amazing, the waves were fun and, for the first time, the water was warm. It’s a great place to walk around at night as well. I’m sure it’s even better in the off-season, without all the other tourists.

I must insert a brief disclaimer here, because I, as many of you, are very spoiled to live in San Diego -- which certainly has some of the nicest beaches in the world. The beaches I found were comparable to back home. I found nothing like the Caribbean or Hawaii in my travels. I’m sure northern Brazil has some great spots, but I that will be an entirely different trip.

Next stop on the itinerary was Punte del Este, Uruguay. It certainly wasn’t exactly the “San Tropez” of Latin America, which I had read, but nonetheless a beautiful (and affordable) place as well. Got some cool photos there, too.


From there I passed through the capitol city, Montevideo, and then boarded a ferry crossing the Rio Plata to Buenos Aires. Got another one of my favorite shots en route:



Initially, my second BA experience was going as poorly as the first. The subway closed about 5 minutes before I reached the gates. I walked for a bit before giving up and hailing a cab. It was about midnight by then and I was tired. However, like the first time, the hotel I had reserved was sealed shut. (I got an email the next day explaining they’d gone out of business.) But alas, fate was on my side. I’d heard the Euros back in Puerto Iguazu talking about a great hostel here. Fortunately I'd written the name down. So, I set out on a new mission – to find the Milhouse. I got in another cab and headed to the center of downtown. I had no idea where I was going, but figured that would be a good place to start. I’m a little ashamed to admit it, but my saving grace was a McDonald’s. I thought there’d be some gringos there who could point me in the right direction, and I was right. An hour later I found my destination, …and they had a room for me, which I was told by all would be impossible for NYE. It turned out to be a great spot. Met great people, the location was perfect, and it had a kitchen. (Which I was very excited to use, as I don’t have one in Peru.)

The second time around Buenos Aires was great. Aside from not getting to see any more tango shows (they’re expensive), it couldn’t have been more enjoyable. Lots more sightseeing and photos. I also developed a little more appreciation for the various architecture, which I didn’t really have time to take in before. It really is a beautiful city.

For the two months of planning that it took, despite the beaches of Brazil and the waterfalls, I was most anxious to spend NYE in Buenos Aires. … And it delivered. The Milhouse had a great party and countdown, lasting ‘til 2AM, at which point we got on a private bus to Pacha. (If you aren’t familiar with the name, Pacha is perhaps the most reputable international chain of dance clubs for electronic music.) They’re all over the world, but only one in the US – where commercial hip-hop taints every club. (But that’s a soapbox for another time.) Anyways, the DJs were great, the crowd was fun, the sound was loud and clear … it was perfect. What made it even better, was randomly running into Phil (20Meat) a fellow DJ from SD. We’ve crossed paths many times back home and spoken briefly, but we finally got a chance to get better acquainted. He’s certainly a great guy, who I hope to keep in better touch with in the future. (I have to give him props too, ‘cause I think he’s the best house DJ in San Diego.)

In true rock-star fashion, I left Pacha with the morning sun a couple of hours high. When I got to the hotel, I only had time for a quick shower before grabbing my bags and heading to the airport. The ten hours of travel to Lima, via Santiago, Chili was a little rough without sleep, but I was still so ecstatic from the night before, it was easy to deal with. I thought I’d be able to sleep on the plane, but I had that great music bouncing around in my head, keeping me conscious.

Lima, as usual, was hot and dirty, but it was there that I met Michele -- a fellow volunteer with the Foundation and family friend. Together we headed back to Yantalo. After traveling by myself for the three weeks beforehand, it was certainly a nice change to have some company -- especially the company of such a wonderful person and experienced traveler as she is.

Our first stop was Chan Chan -- a huge complex of ruins -- near Huanchaco, an awesome little beach town, with great people, really cheap prices and the best civiche in the world. Just to elaborate, I don’t like fish or onions. But they bring out a huge plate of fresh fish and onions soaked in lime, and somehow it turns out to be one of the best meals I’ve ever had.?. …And it’s about $5. ($10 if you want a really fancy restaurant.) I plan on going back just for another plate before I leave.



From the coast we headed up into the Andes to Cajamarca – where the armed and mounted Spaniards slaughtered 5,000 defenseless Incas and took control of the Empire. Other than it’s ugly past, it was an amazing place. It was also really neat to see the more traditional Peruvian garb. Of the most memorable spots were Usha Usha (a very inviting and intimate little night club, where the owner, Jaime, and friends played some beautiful music for us) and Helados Holanda (which serves the best ice-cream I’ve ever had.) Being lactose intolerant, it was certainly a love/hate relationship, but I persevered every day -- through every triple scoop. If you make it there, try the Cerveza flavor. It’s so good I’m sure it would be illegal in the US. ... Oh yeah, I ate a gunea pig too.

Despite the recommendations of Lonely Planet and Rough Guide, we decided to take the less-traveled route across the Andes. They both warned that it was very dangerous, but beautiful. As I like to say though, “Safety Third!” It was indeed both very beautiful and very dangerous. A single dirt track road winding around peaks 9,000 ft high. Check out the video I took. What made it even more adventurous was that we were stuck for about 12 hours near the top, waiting for road crews to come and clear a landslide from our path. It was probably a good thing I didn’t find out ‘til afterwards that the same day another bus went of the road, killing 32 people. Oops.



Just before our last leg of the journey, we stopped at Kuelap – a very impressive ruined citadel, sitting atop a 10km trail – straight up. We climbed 4500ft in 3 hrs, stayed for about an hour, then headed back down, for what I thought would certainly be my last hike ever. My legs have never hurt so bad. It was worth it, however, for the beauty of the ruins and the surrounding peaks was truly breathtaking. …And I finally saw some llamas. (Word to the wise: If you’re planning a 20km hike, eat something that day and make sure you get more than 2 hours sleep beforehand -- preferably not on a bus either. It’s also best to leave early enough as to not descend your final two hours with only a headlamp for light.) I’d heard that the pumas and spectacled bears weren’t usually a problem, so at least we had that going for us ...which was nice.

Literally about 30 seconds after we reached the bottom, we found the last cab to Chachapoyas, an hour north. I’d heard it was a beautiful place to, but unfortunately all we saw was the bank, before climbing into another hour-long cab ride to Pedro Ruiz – where hoped to finally rest, eat and flag down a bus to Moyobamba. Our luck was too good however, and we found a bus after only 5 minutes, on which I tried to sleep, starving and praying my legs wouldn’t cramp up on me. I think I finally passed out about 3AM, but woke to see the familiar bus terminal of Moyo only an hour later.

Everyday since I’ve been back in the jungle, I can’t help but reflect on the truly amazing experiences I had, trekking across this very different continent. I will never forget them.

If you want to see the rest of my travel pics click here.

Now it’s time for to get back to work. I’ll do a better job on keeping you all current with that. And of course keep snapping photos.

Hope you’re all well. Take care.

Ciao amigos.