A gnome's travel tips

Over the years, I've had lots of people ask me for travel tips, especially for Latin America. Given that this is only my third trip south, I'm no expert, but I thought I'd put together some tips for people thinking of heading to Central or South America.

1) Learn Spanish: seriously. The more Spanish (more properly called Castillano) I've learned over the years, the more friendly the people have been, the more I've been able to do, and yes, the cheaper things have been in markets and shops. I know it's a no brainer,  but you would be amazed how many people come here without a lick of Spanish, and often with a refusal to learn. I usually take classes in a Spanish school if I'm somewhere for a long time, and the benefit is massive. 

2) stay in a few places long term rather than hopping around a whole bunch: I have a preference to moving as little as possible. Yes, it's exciting to see lots of cool places, but if you only have a month or two on your trip, don't be one of those people who skips around a lot and tries to see everything. First, in many cases it's the actual act of travelling which is expensive. And second, you will never see everything. My goal is quality over quantity. I love making relationships with people, casual hangouts, dinner parties, and having my own place. As I write this, I'm living in a house in Pisaq, Peru, where I've been for almost three weeks. In a two month trip, I'll only have visited three destinations (Iquitos, the area near Santiago, and Pisaq). And the depth of experience has been awesome.

3) if you stay long term, rent a house: often much cheaper than a hostal, and you end up with a kitchen, your own space, and some quiet time. It's been wonderful to have the experience of home while travelling, and the kitchen has meant I've saved money on eating out, while enjoying the comfort food I love. And since I love fermenting, having a home has meant I can enjoy my passion and share it with friends. It also means that you can avoid buying bottled water, and instead buy refills of the large 23 L water containers, and prevent so much plastic from heading to the landfill.

4) speaking of eating, eat lunch in the public markets: public markets in Latin America usually feature produce, household things, and plenty of delicious food. For lunch, you can usually get a full meal (which in Peru is a soup, drink, and a main dish) for about $2. The food is usually delicious, wholesome, and fresh. And, you can meet interesting people and strike up good conversation. I usually find a lunch vendor I like, then eat there almost every day. If you do eat out, the busier the establishment or vendor, the better food and less likely you are to get sick.

5) get out of the major touristy cities: there's nothing I dislike more (well, perhaps there are a few things) than being stuck in the middle of a really touristy city. There's always someone trying to sell you something, it's loud, it's smelly, and most of the shops are geared towards tourists (hostals, travel agencies, money exchanges, cheap souvenirs, and restaurants). It can be expensive, and really draining. Often, there are smaller towns just a short bus trip away which offer cheaper accommodations,  more peace and quiet, and still allow one to enjoy the city when they wish.

6) bring a veggie peeler: yep, people think I'm weird, but hear me out! When travelling by bus, there's nothing worse than crappy, packaged snack food. I bring a Leatherman knife and a veggie peeler in order to chop and peel things like cucumber on busses, so I can have avocado and cucumber on tortillas (or whatever else). Often, the peels of veggies and fruits in developing countries are contaminated with parasites and other baddies, so a peeler offers a quick solution. Plus, the locals look at you like you're crazy.

7) bring a bunch of reusable produce bags: everything is in plastic here. Even when I'm buying a pack of batteries and am wearing a backpack, people automatically assume I want it in a plastic bag. Be good to the environment, and bring reusable mesh produce bags. Not only are they cool (the locals often express to me how much they like them), but you'll dramatically reduce your plastic consumption. Thank you, mom, for the amazing and very useful gift!

8) buy your beer in big bottles: small bottles are usually tossed in the garbage, while large bottles have a deposit and will be recycled.

9) be very careful whom you do ceremony with: this tip may not be for everyone, but if you plan to take ceremonial substances while abroad, be very careful with your selection of curanderos or shaman. I see many offerings of various ceremonies, and to be honest a lot of them seem really sketchy. People even offer bottles of ayahuasca to me in the street, which I find really strange and disconcerting. If you are travelling in South America, and are looking for a legit experience with ayahuasca or San Pedro, I suggest checking out the website http://AyaAdvisor.org. There, you will find a directory of centers and curanderos offering ceremony, as well as reviews. If you have had any experiences in this area, please add your feedback and reviews on AyaAdvisor. Others will be grateful!

10) you don't need to book tours to enjoy the scenery: yes,  I've been on tours, and have enjoyed myself. But generally, I prefer to make my own way to see the sights, and take my time. Tours are generally much less work than solo planning, but they can be quite rushed, are often quite expensive, and don't allow one to go at their own pace and experience a depth of appreciation. While I took the whole day each to explore the ruins of Ollantaytambo and Pisaq, and a whole separate day to enjoy Moray and Salinas, many groups were doing all four in a single day! Cool if you don't have much time, but there's no way you can say you've seen the whole sacred valley in just a few days.

11) say yes to as much as you can: I've found that the few things I regret about my travels are the things I said 'no' to. Sometimes amazing, once in a lifetime experiences are put before you, and you need only say yes. In my case, this had led to exploring landscapes I never would have seen, making amazing friends, and having life changing experiences. Perhaps it'll push you from your comfort zone, but I thoroughly believe that everything is put before you for a reason. Say yes.

12) just go with the flow: you're fortunate enough to be in a foreign country with a completely different culture and way of life. Yes, things might be a little dirty. Yes, the food might be strange. And yes, things are not done the way they are at home. Busses are not usually scheduled, people drive like maniacs, there are sometimes chickens and goats on the bus, there's garbage, dogs and dog shit everywhere, it's loud, toilet paper has to go in a waste basket, you have to be careful with water, the beer often sucks, you often get wrong directions, taxi drivers try to rip you off, the atm runs out of money, and folks constantly try to sell you things. And so much more. Keep a good sense of humor, and just roll with it.

13) stay away from illegal drugs: while it can be tempting to enjoy various illegal substances while abroad, remember that you're not in your home country. In most places in the world, illegal drugs can land you in a heap of trouble. I'm aware of a few stories about dealers and police working together in order to extract heavy bribes from tourists, and other stories of people facing extremely serious charges and stiff jail time. If you're going to use drugs anyways, be extremely careful and discreet, and be very mindful of whom you buy from.

14) have as much fun as possible: you're on vacation! Laugh, love, learn, and linger. Be silly, stretch beyond your comfort zone, make friends, stay up late drinking, take time to smell the roses (or datura), sleep in, walk slowly, stare into space, read books and swing in hammocks, make music, and try to be as authentic a person as you can. Travel will change you, and almost always for the better. Take time to really be yourself. 

Cusco: Coffee, beer, alpaca wool, Pisaq, and general observations from my second visit.

Well, it finally happened! After five years, countless daydreams, a few bumps in the road, a deep calling from my soul, one wonderful ticket purchase, and 22 hours on a bus, I've finally made it back to Cusco and the sacred valley. I can't begin to describe how happy I am to be here again. As I finish writing this, I've actually moved on to Pisaq, a much smaller town about 40 minutes from Cusco. But I'm still in the area, and loving it.

And I had forgotten how much the altitude takes it out of you! A night without sleep on the bus here (hard to sleep on a bus taking steep switchbacks all night), plus a jump from sea level to 11,000 feet makes for a rough landing in town. That said, I first settled into Atawkama hostel, which is in the old location of Hostal Magico where I stayed a number of years ago for several weeks. Memories are flooding back, of friends made here, adventures shared, and generally enjoyable experiences. The rooms even have the same names, 'Pintor', 'Principito', 'Danza' to name a few, and after I finish writing this tonight I intend to go sit on the terrace, sip on some beer, and watch the world go by. (actually, I got distracted and ended up watching a movie! ) Cusco really is a neat place, although I've heard it said that it has lost much of the charm which made it such a great place to visit. It seems that practically every corner is a hostal, restaurant, tourism agency, massage studio, alpaca wool shop, or cafe. And everywhere a person is hounded for massages, to buy expensive and fake reproduction products, to take an overpriced Machu Picchu tour, and eat at a restaurant. Yes, you can still find amazing holes in the wall, such as the well-hidden studio of a master luthier, one of only two such masters in all of Peru, whom makes the most amazing charrangos, flutes and 16 string guitars. Or the unfortunately not-well-advertised Coca Museum, where you can learn an incredible amount about that marvelous plant, and buy a wide assortment of coca products (I bought coca honey, tried coca wine and coca pisco liquor, and found an alternative to baking soda to use as the alkaline material to chew coca with). The museums and cathedrals here are incredible, especially the exhibits on colonial religious art (moving in ways I can't describe). The viewpoints in the city are incredible, the big white Jesus statue is fun to hike up to, there are lots of cool ruins nearby; there really is so much to do and see. But I felt the need to leave Cusco soon for somewhere quieter, and I think my wallet and head space will thank me too.

For my sake and yours, I'm not going to rehash the details about Cusco, it's history or my first impressions of it. All of that stuff was covered in great detail in a previous blog entry (http://nagdeo.blogspot.com/2011/03/thoughts-from-afar.html) If you want more, the internet is full of great writeups on Andean history, culture, and spirituality. But I wanted to share a few interesting new observations and such which I've picked up this time around.

First, I'd always been curious about how the vendors here can make so much alpaca wool stuff (blankets, sweaters, etc) for the tourist market, and still sell them so cheap. I've seen sweaters sold as low as s./25, about $10, though many are sold for around $20. Amazingly cheap though. So I spoke with a woman whom runs a higher end alpaca wool shop (with absolutely stunning handmade scarves, sweaters, and other textiles). She told me that, indeed, the vast majority of stuff marketed as 'alpaca' and sold on the street or in artisan markets is made of synthetic materials, and contains little, if any, real alpaca wool. Many are labeled '100% Peru', with a picture of an Alpaca, suggesting a connection. So the 'Peru traveler's uniforms' one sees so many people sporting, the leg warmers, scarves, sweaters, gloves, etc which tourists fawn over and buy in droves? All mass produced with synthetic materials. Yep. Sorry to burst anyone's bubble. True alpaca wool garments will be labeled with exactly how much of it is alpaca, should feel much softer to the touch, and supposedly are cool to the touch as well. And you will not find them for $10. The store I was in (yes, it was high end) sold sweaters for s./ 300 - 500, about $120 to $200. This evening, I saw scarves for s./800, or $350. Another was a full bedspread for close to $800. That said, these higher priced items are handmade, are of exquisite quality and detail, and are made by master weavers using traditional means. That is the true difference between real and fake alpaca.
And now I can't bring myself to buy anything but the real thing. Perhaps ignorance is truly bliss.

Second thing I've noticed - it is SO much easier to find amazing coffee in Cusco (and almost everywhere else I've been in South America). Today alone I had coffee at two different artisan cafes, and saw quite a few more during my previous city tour. During my last trip it was almost impossible to find decent coffee, and for this reason I assumed I'd be off coffee for these two months. Ha. Silly gnome.

Third - the microbrewery revolution has made it to Cusco! The old standard and best of the larger companies, Cusqueña (whose dark lager I'm drinking as I write this) now has a few more brews, including a red ale and a quinoa beer (nothing to write home about, but still enjoyable), while the menus at pubs here often advertise micro-brewed and artisan beers alongside the usual domestic and imports. There are even pubs exclusively dedicated to craft beer. Cusco has it's first microbrewery now, called Dragon, and there's also the Sacred Valley brewing company nearby. I haven't yet tried any of their beers, but fully intend to. And might have to write an entire blog entry about it. Last night I thoroughly enjoyed a barley wine made in Lima, oddly named after Barry White.

Yes, I realize that all this stuff involving coffee and beer is simply catering to the demands of international tourism, and that folks like me from privileged nations are driving these industries, many of which are potentially detracting from the rich indigenous culture and heritage which people came here for in the first place. That said, it's a fact that tourism isn't going anywhere, and that the locals (and gringo expats) can make a good living by bringing here those little things which folks like me really want. And honestly, I'm willing to pay the extra dollar to drink good beer and coffee instead of shitty beer and Nescafe. And who knows what kind of creativity can flourish here through those mediums, creating beautiful new expressions of local culture. Perhaps beer using plants only found in this region (there is coca beer in Cusco!) Or Cusco-style kopi luwak, or black ivory coffee, but digested and excreted by llamas instead of civets or elephants. And without the animal cruelty issues.

On another note: the civic design of Cusco was originally designed by the Inka Pachacutec to resemble the side profile of a Puma. That said, the city has grown and changed so much that it's not really obvious anymore. Check it out on Google image search: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKNPkizRuzhGlMoKSDg-x0b4OTq9PUDe-3MxWenY75FX7l90IXSoq_qKYn6REzmLUe1BRuofKpubTxzU8bFhSksJBoPmEo9XU1IjlGy8XNafHlY5W0B_YlSAX9hIeASE4hT9wD8gQWgs-K/s1600/Puma-1.jpg

Coca, which many people know is a plant I very much love and adore, is apparently not the highland plant I thought it was! I learned that grows best between 600 and 2500 meters in elevation, and is more prevalent in the humid areas of the mid-Andes. Contrary to popular thought, it goes not grow around Cusco and the Sacred Valley. Boo. I was really hoping to see one in person! I also learned that it takes 300 kg of coca leaf to make 1 kg of cocaine. The coca museum really was an amazing resource. Check it out online : http://www.museodelacoca.com/index-en.html

And lastly.... Machu Picchu is a name invented by Hiram Bingham, the man whom 'discovered' the archaeological site and made it famous. No one knows what the real Inka name for it was. Machu Picchu literally just means 'old mountain' in Quechua. The site is still pretty cool though, and I'm considering going again. Though it's awfully expensive!

The last few days involved lots of socializing, museums, markets, househunting, and a lot of walking. First, my roommate at the hostal and I took in the Inka Museum, which showcases art, artifacts, and accounts of the myriad pre-Inka civilizations which flourished through Peru, with a heavy focus on the Inka. This National Geographic article is a good read: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/04/inca-empire/pringle-text . The museum had an impressive display of artifacts, featured a collection of European style oil paintings of Inka rulers, and had a small shop which sold traditional Andean textiles (and still incredibly expensive). A great experience.  I later met up with a friend whom I had met in Lima for a wander in town and some adventures. We took in the aforementioned coca museum, wandered up to the gigantic white statue of Jesus (whom is inaccessibly surrounded by fences and barb wire), then hit up dinner in the square. The next day had me take in the impressive Convent of Santo Domingo, a 16th century Dominican convent built upon, and using materials from, the Inka ceremonial center of Qorikancha. Qorikancha, the temple of the sun in Cusco, was the most important temple in the Inka Empire, and was described by the Spanish as 'fabulous beyond belief': the walls were completely covered in gold, as was the entire ceremonial area. The temple was completely looted and destroyed the Spanish, and the remaining walls were incorporated into the Convent. A few of the original Inka walls survive, with almost no sign of damage from the earthquakes which shook the area over the last 500 years. You can read more about it here : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qurikancha

I really enjoyed Qorikancha, though honestly my favorite part was the exhibit on colonial religious art. Starting with paintings of Santo Domingo, the exhibit primarily featured work from the 'Cusco school', a particular style of Catholic art from the 16th to 18th centuries. I'll let wikipedia fill you in (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuzco_School), but suffice it to say that through the style, focus, color, and exquisite nature of the work (they used an incredible amount of gold leaf), the Cusco school style conveys Catholic teachings almost without a word. The beauty of the art, the dedication to it, is extremely inspiring, and captures the love these artists felt for the subject. Well worth the s./10 entrance fee.

I'm now in Pisaq, making ghee and chilling out after a home cooked dinner. After the museum yesterday, my friend and I came into Pisaq to see the sites, and to help me look for a house to rent. I came across a home potentially for rent, which happened to be the very house I had dreamed about staying in 5 years ago, right on the road leading out of Pisaq, towered over by stunning mountains and Inka ruins. It's a 20 min walk from town, and here I sit, writing and quietly enjoying music. It's not a super cheap rental (about $100 CDN a week) but I'm happy. From here, I can explore the sacred valley with ease, enjoy the ruins, hike the terraces (on my to do list for tomorrow), and go into Cusco if I need to (which will happen, particularly when I go to the dentist!)

If you haven't already, check out the photos in my Dropbox folder. I'll be adding new photos asap of Cusco and Pisaq. https://www.dropbox.com/sh/3r8lkbc5cesepys/AADO5K4kBx5PRChZEwis0fHba?dl=0

Thanks for travelling along with me. Much love to all of you, wherever you are. Drop me a line via email or Facebook if you want to chat, or leave a comment below.

Paz y luz,

Chris

Ecuador: Part Two; and some Final Thoughts from Afar

I just discovered this unpublished  log entry I had been preparing at the end of my last trip to South America. Though unfinished, it gives a bit of closure to what had been an amazing 5 months, and a few final thoughts about the experience.  Plus,  well, Banos and Quito were pretty cool places. Enjoy this little time warp to 2011....

-------------------------

Almost 6000 miles, 48-hours, 3 cities, 2 time zones, 1 good sleep, a language barrier, a continent, and a crazy night of partying later, I find myself alone in an apartment in San Francisco, California. A kind guy from CouchSurfing.org has left me in his apartment for the evening, and over Gaudi and the smell of rice cooking with seaweed, I'm finding my thoughts drawn back to the last few weeks, and my final experiences in South America. Everywhere I go in this city, be it the mostly African districts, the parks frequented by dogs and their pets, North Beach (filled with strip clubs and beat poetry spaces), or the ol' Haight-Ashbury, I notice Spanish speakers, signs in Spanish, Mexican and Latino restaurants. In fact, I realize that the only reason I ate at a cheap burrito restaurant today was the hope of speaking some Spanish to someone.

Reverse culture shock hits the unsuspecting gnome. Blown away, I am, at how clean, orderly, and sterile things seem here; the easy availability of luxurious consumer goods (english books, seaweed, miso, herbal teas, and good toothpaste!!!); the apparent lack of hardware stores, copy shops, internet cafes, little tiendas, and hole-in-the-wall restaurants (all of which are a dime-a-dozen in Peru and Ecuador); the conspicuous absence of reggaeton; and just how damn expensive everything is here. In my initial search before finding the burrito place, I scoured the Haight for cheap food. The cheapest reasonable thing was a $2.50 taco... a far cry from a filling $2 set lunch!

Far be it for me to compare and contrast America-norte with America-sur, though. They're just different. And between those differences, one can find a wealth of experience, both instructive and contemplative. Although not even I know exactly how this trip has affected me and my path, I hope that through sharing some of these final thoughts and experiences that you all can understand just a wee bit better the trajectory I've set upon...

So, where was I.....?

Ah yes, I was on a bus, leaving the paradise of Puerto Lopez, my one-and-only opportunity to *really* soak in the coastal sun and surf. And that very evening, over thick black bread (a real treat!) and Gatorade, Lydia and I took in the sights and sounds of... the Guayaquil bus depot (some opinions hold that it's actually the nicest part of the city). Half American-style super-mall, half bus parkade, the Guayaquil terminal terrestre is three stories of confusion, noise, people, sunglass stalls, ticket agents yelling destinations at you, a huge grocery store, and surprisingly well-kept bathrooms. And I managed to find a $0.50 headphone jack splitter! Seeing how our bus back south to Loja wasn't leaving for.... 9 hours.... we had time to kill.

Luckily we weren't the ones on the receiving end of the killing. For once the bus left (an ordeal, involving a ticket agent trying to convince us to take the later bus...), we found ourselves praying or our lives, as our driver swerved and sped into the darkness of night. Now, I don't want to scare you folks.... but I think that might actually be the last time I take a night bus. At least in the mountains. Because at one point, I was sure the bus had actually lept off the side of the cliff, and that we were in free-fall. Reaching over to Lydia, her arm grabbing mine in mild terror, I found we had shared similar concerns...

I don't think I have ever been so happy for dawn to come.

In said morning, our final leg of (saner) bussing brought us back to the beautiful, tranquil valley of Vilcabamba, where I had planned to spend some of my last weeks. Intrigued by my previous description of 'the best place ever!', Lydia joined me, just days short of her impending trip back to Lima, then ultimately Berlin. Two days later, after much reminiscing, photo and memory sharing, jamming, and our usual fun, we parted ways in the Loja bus station. Not the most lovely place to part ways, but, well, fitting...

I stayed in Vilcabamba for another 10 days. It just felt like home, and I really had some difficulty pulling myself away. Not only is the valley so... relaxing... but I had made some friends, and was feeling the community vibe. Plus, having a kitchen was pretty cool!

Remember how I mentioned that Vilcabamba had about 300 gringos living there, and that there was a chocolate cafe? Well, those two concepts converge with Pineapplehead, a dread-headed brotherman from Cali, and his Ecuadorian wife, Ximena. A tattoo speaking the praises of barefeet graces her foot, while thick black dreads frame her smile, too big for words. Pineapple often sports a patch on his shirt of, well, a pineapple, and gazes out at the world from behind probably the most hilarious pair of glasses ever (frames only...). The day I wandered back into the shop, Ximena had several people sitting on the floor, and was passing out cups of hot mate de coca. And the next thing I know, I'm talking with another Chris, and we realize that we met last winter, at a Vipassana retreat. Trippy..... Casa de Chocolate works it's magic. As Pineapple often related, the space wasn't so much about making money, but rather just to have another gathering space for likeminded folks to share. That night (a Tuesday), someone asked if we were having the Tuesday-night Rainbow Gathering. Laughter ensued :)

I won't go into much detail about the next 10 days (as most involved slight modifications of the same activities...). However - I made sauerkraut. And it was AWESOME! I can't believe how much I miss that stuff while I'm gone. As well (in no particular order), I ate a lot of pan integral with papaya-maracuya jam; hiked up to an amazing lookout near the reserve I was living at; walked through a huge mud-pit, and subsequently had my hiking boots stolen while I was leaving them out to dry; hiked up cerro Mandango (the towering local hill) in flip-flops; went to a Cuban music show which ended up being non-Cuban, but involved drinking a lot of rum with three crazy French girls; made some more local (gringo) friends; went to a dinner party hosted by a really neat woman; thought I had parasites but realized that without the other symptoms I was probably being hypochondriacal; watched the world go by while sipping good coffee; read a bit; confronted some major psychological and existential questions, then got over it; finally reconnected with my happiness; ate a LOT of other good food; and generally had fun.

(Speaking of fun... I almost got abducted by my host, Jesus, and his - extremely attractive - friends to go party somewhere. Would have been fun, except that the cover is $20 of my non-existent funds, and they want to go out until 4 or 5 am. I'm getting picked up here at the ungodly hour of 4:30 am to get to Arcata. Ah well, next time...)

Probably the most memorable, and arguably most annoying/relieving, aspect of Vilcabamba was my experience with the hospital. Much to my surprise, Ecuador has free healthcare. Gringos included. I asked some locals about it, and they said that, especially in rural areas, the healthcare is free, and actually pretty good quality. Although there are more expensive private clinics, the free healthcare is generally fast, thorough, and efficient. Recall that I was swimming in Puerto Lopez? Well, one day I awoke to find I couldn't hear a thing from my left ear. If you've ever had a wax blockage, you know how annoying it is. A few days later, the doctor tells me that he can help, and prescribes ear drops, telling me to come back in 4 days for irrigation. I ask him the price, and he says 'nothing'. Stupified, I go to the pharmacy, and walk out a dollar lighter and a bottle heavier. 4 days pass, and I return for the irrigation. You know it's a good day when the doctor cries 'madre de dios!' (mother of god!) upon seeing a wax ball drop into the pan. 15 minutes later, I walked out with perfect hearing and a smile on my face, free of charge! 

Another example of this was in Banos, where I was concerned that I might have *gasp* malaria! I had been experiencing mild body fevers, as well as general malaise. In all honesty, I blame some of the symptoms on exhaustion - I had spent my last night in town (before a 13-hour bus ride) staying up all night drinking with a friend, and hadn't slept well the previous night. Next thing I know, I'm getting dosed with antibiotics, from a nurse who is convinced I have a throat/lung infection. Blood tests 2 days later confirmed I had bacterial infections in my stomach and throat, and needed more antibiotics. I basically spent my entire time in Banos sleeping, eating well, monitoring my well-being, and bathing in the hot thermal baths. But I got better, and it was free!

Banos *is* a pretty cool place, despite the fact that I didn't do anything while I was there except sleep. I made efforts to do things, yes, but always seemed to be foiled. The city is renound for it's outdoor opportunities, including ample hiking, mountain biking, canyoning, rafting, paragliding, dune-buggy rentals, volcano tours. In fact, the volcano erupted about 10 days before I arrived, and the whole city had been covered in ash. People were still walking around with particle masks, and there continued to be layers of thin black ash inside our bathroom in the hostal, somehow filtering in... Try as he might, one of my roommates, night after night, went up to the volcano crater to see what he could see. Which was basically just clouds. Upstairs, there was an amazing rooftop patio, with a cafe for breakfasts, serving real, strong coffee. Plus, they baked their own bread... mmmmmmm.....

The morning finally came when one just has to make a move. And it seemed a perfect day, since the three of us who had been sharing the dorm room all decided to leave for Quito. William and I had our eyes set on Otavalo, where every Saturday the biggest market in South America explodes. Perhaps it's an exaggeration, but they say there are a staggering 3500 stalls! Now that's shop-till-you-drop. However.... I didn't make it. On the way into Quito, daunted by the size of the city, and the cost of taxis, I decided to stay in the city. You know me and cities....

Despite it's unbelievable size (from viewpoints in town, you can't see the end of the city. It's as if the city just spreads to the horizon, forever...). 

A long overdue hello from Chile!

Well, it's been a month since I boarded that ferry leaving Vancouver, and I'm sure many of you are wondering, 'Hey, what happened to Chris' blog? You know, the one which he usually writes in when he's away in Latin America. His stories are so quirky and strange, and I kind of miss them!' It's true (though perhaps minus the self-indulgence): for the last few weeks, I've been meaning to spend some time online to post my ramblings, photos, and general musings. But the truth is, I've been having so much fun and doing so many neat things that I haven't really found the time! That said, I'm currently in a house without power, and with the last five percent charge on my tablet, I've decide to at least get started in writing a new blog post.

So yes! Hola from Laguna Verde, Chile, where I've spent a good portion of the last two weeks since leaving the profoundly beautiful (and profoundly sweaty) jungles of northern Peru. I'm currently on a second stay at a friend's land, lending my help with labour (though there hasn't been too much of that yet), providing ideas for design of house and landscape, getting acquainted with the land, and generally chilling out. It is absolutely beautiful here, and only 45 minutes outside the artsy and bohemian city of Valparaiso (which I'll describe a bit more below). Since getting here, we've seen the raw land completely transformed: a local crew has built a new access road, cleared a huge amount of one of the hectares, and prepared the flat area for the house. The space is so much more open now, and as we marked the lines for building the new fence in the next few days, I got a true sense of how things may develop over the coming years. This place is going to be amazing, and in intending to be more involved here, I've decided to use this as my final project for my Permaculture Design Certificate. Yes, it may take quite a while, but thankfully the course has no set completion date, and I feel I've now found a design project I'm excited and inspired to take part in. My next step will be to research terracing while in the sacred valley outside Cusco, Peru during January, and learning more about how to apply it to the site here at Laguna Verde. In the end, I hope to compile all the maps, site details, photos, and general information about the project into a well-organized and beautifully designed printed-on-demand book.

Rewinding a few weeks: I know that many of you are aware of the meditation retreat I went on in the jungle. After giving it some thought, I've decided to keep that experience mostly to myself, and not share it openly online. However, if you see me in person, do feel free to ask me about it. It was indeed a powerful and nourishing experience, and I'm happy to share elements of it with my close friends. I will, however, encourage you to check out the website of the retreat center, Baris Betsa (http://baris-betsa.com/) and if you're already a friend of the center, please check out and 'like' the new 'Friends of Baris Betsa' Facebook page (https://facebook.com/barisbetsafriends/) There you'll find lots of information and great photos from the recent retreats. If you're interested in going to the center and want more info, ask me about it in person.

With the retreat completed, a tired Christopher joined his friends M and B for a flight back to Lima, and then on to Santiago, Chile. We arrived exhausted around midnight, gathered a rental car, then arrived at M's mother's place in the city center. And at 2 am, she woke up, greeted us, and set to making a pot of fresh chicken soup. I have since learned that this is part of real Chilean hospitality - offering what you have with no hesitation, welcoming family and friends whenever you can, and spending lots of time eating and drinking to celebrate the joy of being together. Everywhere I've been there's an abundance of food, laughter, and comradery, moreso than I usually see back home. There's a simple joy of daily living which I find so touching and nourishing, and I really seek to embody this more in my life in Canada. We stayed at the house for a few days, getting ourselves together and organized for camping at Laguna Verde. The plan was to camp for almost three weeks, with a break between for Christmas in Santiago.

Hospitality notwithstanding, it was honestly a greater joy to finally leave Santiago. I find the city a bit depressing: loud, somewhat unfriendly, and lacking in much green space. On the other hand, it's the cleanest of all major capital cities I've been to, but suffers from the crowdedness and non-human-scale quality of life in which I find it hard to thrive. We did, however, visit a few of M's old friends and his sister's family, as well as went to see Star Wars on Imax (great experience, but ultimately a disappointing movie, but that's another story).  Our next destination - Valparaiso, and then on to Laguna Verde.

We drove to the coast early the next morning, the sun at our backs as we headed west through Chile's wine country, mountains to the east like a spine along the whole country. I realize how incredibly beautiful and diverse this country is: from the tropical regions and deserts of the north, to the more temperate central regions and finally the glacial spans of the south and Patagonia, Chile spans a huge range of terrain, landscapes and climates for which it deserves recognition as a truly multi-continental country. It's also a country wealthy in resources and raw materials, with a relatively strong economy (possibly the strongest and most resilient South America) and quite a high quality of life. However, much of this has been overshadowed by a violent history, particularly the brutal military dictatorship of the Pinochet era (1973 to 1997), which you can read about on your own through wikipedia. To say the least, this has left an indelible mark on Chilean society and is a source of much contention to this day.

After Christmas, which was spent with M's family back in Santiago, I said a temporary adios to my friends and spent four days solo in Valparaiso. The photos and wikipedia articles can't quite do justice to this amazing city. Dating back to as early as 1536, and with a rich cultural heritage, Valparaiso was a small village until Chile claimed independence from Spain in the early 19th century. It then became arguably the most important port along the Pacific coast of South America, and a key station for the Chilean navy and for international trade. It was also an important stop for ships heading to the pacific coast of the Americas for at least 100 years, especially during the California gold rush when Chilean wheat was a staple import for American miners. Valpo (as its often called) featured many Latin Amercan firsts: the first, and lonest running, Latin American newspaper; the first fire department on the continent; the first Protestant church (and Protestant church with a cross); and the first bank. It was in all manners a thriving city. However, the end of the gold rush, a devastating earthquake in 1906, as well as the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914, brought Valparaiso's golden age to an end. Decades later, the city is reviving itself as a cultural and artistic center.

The city itself consists of a flat area with a grid-like structure (so creatively named 'El plan', and mostly dedicated to commercial use), surrounded by 45 'cerros', or steep round hills, upon which the majority of the city is built. The cerros vary in height, and gradually rise up the side of a steep mountain to it's crest. Each cerro is like a community of it's own, with unique art, character, history and charm. There is an organic chaos which lends a sense of structure to the city: roads through the city and between the cerros are narrow, steep, and winding (like San Francisco times a thousand), while mazes of footpaths, alleyways and amazingly steep stairs connect the various cerros together. Though wandering without a map, I almost couldn't get lost if I tried. Much of the city is also protected as a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2003, which protects most of the historic districts from any and all re-development. While this is wonderful in most ways, the down side is that in a region prone to earthquakes and fires, buildings which are only partially destroyed cannot be altered from their original design. This means that there are buildings standing in ruins, with their owners waiting for their complete destruction until they can be redeveloped.

One of the most unique features in Valparaiso are the 'ascensors', a series of 15 elevator-like lifts which scale the sides of the cerros and permit easy access to the city. Built between the 1880s and 1915, the ascensors are a staple in Valpo's tourist image, and make much of the city far more accessible by foot than by car. Equally impressive are the stunning murals and massive scale street art through the entire city. The first murals were commissioned by Pablo Neruda, the famous poet and writer, whom brought well-known Latin American artists such as Diego Rivera to the city. The scale of art grew from there, and after a period of repression during the Pinochet era, Valparaiso is experiencing a renaissance in public art. I'd encourage you to Google 'Valparaiso murals' and have a look for yourself.

In a short list, I spent my time in Valpo enjoying a plethora of micro-brewed and local beers (the best I've found in Latin America) and indulging in amazing food, wandering through the various city sights, enjoying a few of the popular haunts for late night drinking (including the famous bar, Cinzano, which has been serving in since 1896), making new friends (and playing Cards Against Humanity with them), laboring to print maps for the Laguna Verde project (which I succeeded in against many odds!), and basically enjoying what the locals refer to as the 'Porteño lifestyle'. This was described to me as an artistic and bohemian way of living in the moment: a carefree attitude about tomorrow; lots of music, art and comradery; plenty of good local food and drink; a pride in non-conformity and individual style; a love of thrift store fashion; and a fierce protection of the unique quality of life that makes Valpo so endearing. It's somewhat hipster in Valpo, but without being the elitist and shallow dead-end of western culture that hipsterism seems to embody in North America (Yes, I know I'm somewhat judgemental on that last point, and I'll own it.)

However much people seem to romanticize the 'Porteño lifestyle', Valpo has it's down sides, many of which are hard to see by the tourists whom generally stay close to the more artsy and affluent areas of town, such as Cerro Alegre and Cerro Conceptión. Poverty is more entrenched and severe here than the national average, raging fires are a constant threat due to dry conditions and poor city electrical utility structures, especially in the poorer areas towards the edges of town (check out my photo of the insane telephone poles!), and there is a significant issue with drugs, crime and alcoholism. The gap between rich and poor is staggering here, as it is in most Latin American countries. The city is also absolutely filthy in many areas, with garbage dumped openly on the streets and upper cerros, though that's also not uncommon down in these parts. I've included links to two rather interesting articles which highlight some of these issues.

 http://www.buenosairesherald.com/article/157235/valpara%C3%ADso-blaze-reveals-city%E2%80%99s-unseen-poverty

 http://matadornetwork.com/abroad/the-valparaiso-no-one-writes-about/

All that aside, I will definitely return to Valparaiso (in what capacity I don't know). The city captured my heart in a way few other places have, winning me over with its charm, artsy nature, good food and drink, interesting and friendly people, and general warmth. Plus, well, whom can resist taking gondolas up cliffs to get to your home? On a trip back into town from Laguna Verde, I felt a tinge of nostalgia for my time in Valpo, and really wish I could have spent more time there. I'm looking forward to making that happen in the future. Perhaps this time next year? ;)

Tomorrow (actually today, as I'm continuing to write this!), we leave our little home in Laguna Verde for the city of Curacavi. The owners of the Laguna Verde house plan to stay there over new years, and after a few phone calls, M found us an even nicer place to stay, with power, Internet, a full kitchen, and a swimming pool! (I'm continuing to write from this new home, and trust me, it's awesome! More to come on that in the next entry!) We'll be doing new years there (here) the M's sister, brother in law and nephew, and avoiding the crazy party which is Valparaiso. One day I'd like to do new years there, as it features the largest fireworks display in all South America. They say over 100,000 people come from all over Chile and absolutely overwhelm Valpo for a full day of debaucherous and drunken celebration in the streets. Tempting....

Anyways, if you're interested, follow this link to check out my Dropbox folder of photos from my trip. I'll add descriptions to the photos when I have a better Internet connection. So far, I've added photos from Lima, the retreat in Iquitos, and Laguna Verde and Valparaiso in Chile. More will be added as the trip goes on! Enjoy!
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/3r8lkbc5cesepys/AADO5K4kBx5PRChZEwis0fHba?dl=0

Until the next blog post, I wish you all a happy new year, and send much love and well wishes from a little gnome in Chile! <3

Chris / Nagdeo / Gnome