Saturday, July 17, 2010

...

We made it back to the US.
My mind is scattered in a million pieces.
The culture shock began when we got off the plane and... I cant even go into detail. It was horrible.
Ill be fine.

Breathe...

Ill keep this blog going for the rest of the summer.
Thanks for following along.
It means a lot.

Now, I sleep...

Goodnight and dulce suenos.

Love ya.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

O, the beautiful sound
of falling coins
on steel

My three eyes
Spinning in circles

Bar
Bar
Bar bar bar

There is no sunshine in the Tigre casino.

We left the flourescent money mansion with full pockets and heavy eyelids.
My eyes blinded by the darkness of the night.

I don´t believe in luck - I believe in destiny. But last night, luck was on our side.

Jonathan and I dominated the blackjack table, though Jonathan had no idea what was going on. We turned 50 into 190.

Abril and Ro looked like two old ladies, stuffing more and more coins into slot machines. I joined Abril, and after saaay 10 minutes, I stood triumphantly glaring at the 720 gold circles plumetting, bowing to their rightful owner - me. Buena suerte or buena onda - whatever you wanna call it, Abril and I had it.

Twas a good way to say goodbye to Tigre, or rather Tigre saying goodbye to me. We sadly cannot stay in Argentina for Abrils birthday, and will head back to the US tomorrow morning.

6 months abroad. Growth. Insight. Wisdom.

The adventure never ends...

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

On the move, keepin the groove

Back in Buenos Aires!

Our night in Arequipa was absolute awesome madness. A new Claro was opening, equivalent to say Verizon Wireless, and as we walked by, Jonathan peeked back and wanted to enter the party. The big security guards at the door gave us gringos skeptical looks. I peered in to see a jolly round guy with a blue jacket holding a full bottle of Cusqueña cerveza gave me the "come on in" gesture. I immediately yelled "we´re with him, him, HIM!" and we entered. The man, Guillermo, really hooked it up. Tons of free beer, music, and he introduced us to a group of five girls, saying "dance, dance" C´mon!" Feeling slightly embarassed, I moved weakly towards them, but as our cab driver Edwin advised earlier in the day, "Arequipa girls love fireigners."

Edwin was right.

We danced the hell out of Claro, ate some celestial crepes at Zig Zag´s, then went out clubbing with the group of five. Twas a great night to say the least.

After 2 hours of sleep, we awoke from our drunken slumbers and booked it to the station. We discover that "Bus cama" AKA bed bus, is the best thing ever. We have the whole bottom section of the bus to ourselves. The 9 hour ride to Nazca felt like a "ratito".

When we arrived in Nazca, we went directly to the airport. "We have no tickets, but we wanna fly and see the lines!" We got a 4 seater plane, 2 pilots and booked it to the sky... the last flight out that afternoon. We saw the most incredible, head achy, mind hypnotizing Nazca Lines, formations of Incan rock patterns resembling different animals and figures across an arid desert. How it got there, or why it was there, remains a mystery. Google search Nazca Lines...

We then got some juicy sleep and booke dit to Lima, met our Israeli-LA friend Oren in the Loki Hostel (Miraflores) and walked around the trendy uppermid class neighborhood. Eventually, Jona nd I went to the movie theater and saw "The A-Team" (AKA "Los Magnificos") .... seriously... As much as the movie continued to pile ridiculousness on top-of-itself, it brought out a lot of analysis within us. After the movie, deep philisophical-psychological conversation ensued within the "rauchy arcade" of a a shopping mall strip. Who ever thought The A-Team would bring out such intense analysis. Go AMERICA!

Anyways. QWe followed with an adventurous search for cuy (guinea pig). We had yet to eat the delicasey in Peru, and in our last night, would settle for nothing less. Our final Peruvian dinner took place in a fancy shmansy restaurant-bar. We drank amazing cocktails and munched on heavenly cuy (followed by a massive banana sundae downt he block). We met Oren and our new Alabama spunk-punk friend Joseph at La Noche Jazz night, drank some beers, and returned to the hostel to be bothered and confused by raging drunk Irish burly men int he hostel bar.... Anyways.

We woke up slightly late and ended up sprinting down the terminal for our plane back to Buenos Aires. Long story short, we made it. Slept the whole 4 hour plane ride, got outta the BsAs airport safely back home. Jonathans upstairs resting and Cachop went to pick up Elvira from their daughters house. Lovely dinner with Malbec ahead.

2 days in Buenos Aires before we return to the States. Lots of internal reflection going on, but thats another blogpost, if I can even put it down from my head. All in all. Tuto ben!

Daviiid

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Dust Demons

We jump out of the pickup truck and the man riding shotgun calls me closer: "Cuidado con los perros salvajes. Es mas seguro para llevar piedras..." He gave me a queesy look and the green machine headed left, shooting a cloud of dust over us like a thin brown blanket.

Walking up to the junk yard, Jonathan and I start laughing uncontrollably. "What ARE we doing? We are probably the stupedest people alive!"

Well, with great risk comes great reward.

We only had one day in Arequipa to enjoy whatever offer came a´callin. The trip to Colca, the famous (Machu Pichu scale-esque) canyon with condors and extreme views was out of the picture. 5 hours away? No thanks. So, we settled for Misti, the massive volcano that dominates the Arequipa skyline. The thing about Misti is that it looks much closer than it is. Also, it is "safer" to go with a guide, something we shrugged off. When we asked our cab driver how we´d get back to town, he just smiled and laughed... Great.

So we told Edwin, the driver, to return three hours later to the San Luis cemetery. We then hitched a ride in the back of a pickup truck and walked uphill through the arid dusty wasteland. Imagine: no one but us and poisonous rotten evil killing junk yard dogs. With rocks and big bottles of water in our hands, we were equipped for battle. We werent looking for a fight, though it would make a good story. pproahing their territory, a pack of black drooling devil dogs ran up to us barking in broken English mostly screaming, "Beat it gringos, we eat white meat!!!!" There were no stone throwing, but I came close. We moved past the pack and up the hill, ate lunch,took a grand sista, and went on a wild off-road hike up and down canyons, through ravine, and over cacti. I got stung quite a few painful times. It clear that my "magic pants" arent completely magical after all.

Edwin returned. We ate banana chips and laughed. Took a quick disposable photo with our man and ducked into the Santa Catalina monastary. Gorgeous red hallways. Sick-looking Jesus statues and a great city-mountain view.

We are now showered and are ready for delicious-sounding crepes. We head for Nazca tomorrow morning. Always on the move. Stone-throwing-dog-killer-blood boiling in our blue veins.

RAWWWR!!!

Friday, July 9, 2010

Lake Titicaca Blues

Fried trout. Inka Kola. Churango case lookout. Gelatin old women selling Sublime candy bars and chicklets. Beggers and babies. The smell of fresh shit wafting in the wind. Steep hills. Uros island loca lone ladies. Bright night electric lights. Haggeling tourist trappers. Machupizza. Really cheap wine. Colorful pants. Good friends. The brightest sun in the world.

Thanks, Puno.

Hello, Arequipa.

Thursday, July 8, 2010