in case anyone is wondering…

as neural slime

are words derived from mixing up the letters in my first and middle names.

:)

i’m snow excited

It’s been snowing a lot recently, and while most people around here are sick of it already, I’m actually enjoying it. I have no place I need to drive to, so I don’t have to deal with slippery roads and … Continue reading →

This green tea I just made looks and tastes like cactus snot (and other diet-related stories)

and now I feel like I might vomit. galuuuuuuh (that’s the noise I just made). I think it’s possible that the tea brewed with San Pedro cactus that I drank in Perú may have ruined other less-sweet teas for me for a little while.

Sometimes it’s easy for me to forget that I’m not in Perú anymore. I’m sure everyone goes through periods like this after returning from a long time spent abroad. This is my first experience with the sensation, so it’s kind of a big deal for me. Examples: I still get a kick out of throwing paper into a public toilet and then WATCHING IT FLUSH ALL BY ITSELF and I was shocked to hear the cashier at my local Asian market speak to me in English.

Along with my mental readjustment, the past month has brought about a pretty major physical acclimation as well. As with everything else, there’s a little bitta good and a little bitta bad, but overall I’d say my body just isn’t very happy with me for taking it through so many climates, diets, and time zones in 2010, and now it’s making me PAY.

My skin has always been dry and sensitive, but now it’s worse than I can ever recall. Nowadays, my lips look like Dave Chapelle’s crack head character and I have a faint goatee of skin flakes upon my chinny chin chin. I even have dry, scaly eyelids. Eyelids! One of the oiliest parts of the human body!! My hair is abounding with split-ends, which I simply can’t tolerate as they give me that same nervous, queasy feeling some people get from seeing lotus pods (WARNING! if you’re one of those people, don’t click the link). **shudders**

What’s even worse than all that was the havoc that’s been wreaked upon my digestive system. It was just not working right, nah’mean? Additionally, due to my lack of a routine schedule, I’m frequently forgetting what day it is and letting things slip.

Something needed to be done! Being a good holistic health hippie (and alliterative to boot) I turned first to alternative medicine. I’m so hip.

During yoga training, we briefly covered the traditional Indian medical practice of Ayurveda, which means “science of life.” One of my fellow yogi classmates had even studied the art at a school in New Mexico for a year before coming to Perú. I’d never heard of it before, but the more I learn the more I dig it.

I’d already bookmarked this page and diagnosed myself as a vata-pitta dosha type as a part of a written assignment. The three doshas are vata (comprised of air and ether elements), pitta (fire and water), and kapha (water and earth).  Everybody is made up of all three doshas, but in most people one or two are dominant, and manifest in certain physical and psychological characteristics. It’s a very similar concept to Sheldon’s endo/ecto/mesomorph theory that we all learned about in Intro to Psychology.

For example, I think that I’m vata because my body is long & lean, my skin is dry, and hair is frizzy. I’m an anxiety-prone space case with severe ADHD, and change my mind like I change my underwear. I make friends quickly, but overall tend to be a loner. I’m creative. I prefer warm environments.

I think I’m pitta because I’m highly irritable, intellectual, critical, and perceptive. I’m an articulate speaker and writer. I tend to be self-righteous, argumentative, and strong-willed at times, but am also a strong leader because of these things. I have a sharp memory and an even sharper tongue.

Go dosha-type yourself! It’s fun!

It became clear to me that my vata was (OK- still is) imbalanced. My pitta might be a bit out of control too, because my patience with people is waaaaaaaaaaaniiiiiiiiiiiing. The physical symptoms I was experiencing, however, were all screaming too much vata!

Furthermore, check out this excerpt taken straight from the web site:

Factors that can cause Vata dosha to increase in the physiology include a diet that contains too many dry or raw foods, over-consumption of ice-cold beverages, exposure to cold dry winds, a variable daily routine, too much travel, and mental overexertion.

Alright. Convinced.

So what do I do to help myself? I think that the most important thing is establishing some kind of routine. I’ve been setting an alarm to get me out of bed at 7:30 am even though I don’t have a job to go to or anything. Sometimes I actually get out of bed before 8:30 am. My new motivation is to meditate before Buffy the Vampire Slayer comes on at 8 am so that I can pause it and then ffwd thru commercials while I watch it during breakfast! don’t judge me.

Also, I’m trying to eat lighter in the morning and evening, with a hearty meal for lunch. Eating a lot in the evening makes me feel sick and then I can’t sleep at night. Even pasta is too heavy for me. Most of the dietary changes I’m making are things I was craving anyway: no meat, hot tea and warm water instead of cold drinks, soup, lots of spices like ginger and cinnamon, fruit and nuts.

So far, so good.

A couple of vata-balancing diet and lifestyle changes suggested by the site that are a bit more challenging for me include staying out of cold, windy weather and eating enough fat. It’s friggin winter here and I want to snowshoe, damnit! And I’ve always preferred a low-fat diet, mainly because the fat-rich foods I like the most are also high in saturated fat, like cheese and chocolate, so I try to keep that limited. However, I recall a particularly skeletal time in my life a couple of years ago. I decided to try to gain some weight the healthy way and did so by adding a Tbs of flax oil to my breakfast every day, and then snacking on walnuts every afternoon. People were actually complimenting me on the improvement in my hair, skin, and nails. Maybe I’ll try that again…

I wanted to write about more things, but I am tired and want to do some yoga. I’m bad at endings.

One thing that concerned me as the end of the Peruvian chapter of my life drew near was that I would lose what I’d gained by living abroad. I’d slowly morph back into my old cutthroat Jersey Girl self. I’d readjust to the comforts of the first world: toilets with seats, restaurants that actually serve the dishes listed on their menus, etc. I remember being on my friend’s roof, bringing our used wine glasses over to the industrial sink he uses to wash his dishes in, ans exclaiming, “oh my god! In six weeks I’ll be back at my parents’ house… and they have a DISHWASHER!!!! Life is going to be so crazy.”

Honestly, I feel like dishwashers are completely unnecessary (though quite nice to have around!) But some other luxuries I had been deprived of, such as a long hot shower or a damn good cup of coffee, continue to be more exciting to me than Christmas. Every time I step into the shower, I experience heaven. There’s nothing even slightly exaggerated about that statement. I hope it continues.

This was on my mind because I did something kinda out of the ordinary for a Roxburian this afternoon. I decided to walk from my house to the nearest Bank of America to deposit some Christmas checks.

I’ve been stuck inside my parents’ house most days because I don’t have a car; i sold it for travel money. Totally worth the hassle, by the way. Because of this, anytime I want to go out or need to run an errand, I have to either get a ride from someone or borrow my mom’s car if she’s around. Roxbury is pretty much straight up anti-pedestrian suburbia. Not a damn thing around, and spotty sidewalk coverage.

Originally, I had wanted to go for a run this afternoon. I was about to get changed, when I thought better of it. I’ve been fighting off a gross combo of sinusitis/bronchitis since the week after Christmas. The last time I thought I was almost 100% better, I effed it up by going out for a run underdressed on a cold day. My cold relapsed with a vengeance, and I was kicking myself for it with each phlegmy cough.

The point is, I needed to take it easy, and at this point in my fitness, I’d really be kidding myself to say that running 3.5 miles is “taking it easy.” Oh how I miss the days when it was…

So I walked to the bank. I spent two hours running a single errand that would have taken less than 30 minutes if I’d had a car. When I was living in Perú or Costa Rica, I would be lucky if a single errand took only two hours. Not because the nearest mini mall is 3 miles away (hehehehe, like they even have mini malls!) but because nothing is ever convenient in South America. Set aside an afternoon for picking up a package at the post office, and an entire day to take a bus trip.

I really enjoyed my walk to the bank today, and the fact that it gave me a productive excuse to spend a sunny, cold afternoon in the fresh air. I love the fact that I did something so mundane, but it stirred up feelings that made it special to me.

I love that I walked past my old high school just as the students were leaving, and witnessed what could have been an audition for the Jersey Shore. I love that the little punks hollered at me from their warm, comfy cars. I’m guessing they thought I was homeless or something. The only people who walk around Roxbury are middle aged women who want exercise and this one special dude who always wears a sombrero. I bet they saw me and thought, “oh hey, that girl’s walking! She must be too poor or loony to drive a car! Hahhhahha, stupid walking girl!”

Whatevs.

so far I’d say I’m succeeding at maintaining my overseas attitude.. let’s see how long that lasts.

I take it back; this really isn’t so bad at all

Next time I make a snarky comment about my parents’ larger than life television, remind me that I found Fraggle Rock on one of the thousand channels this morning, and it totally warmed my heart.

And if I wasn’t unemployed and bumming off my parents right now, I most likely would have missed the baby deer walking through the gently falling snow in the neighbors’ backyard.

For whatever reason, I’m suddenly feeling content to be here. Maybe it’s because I’m finally caught up on writing about Perú, three weeks after leaving. Maybe because I’ve been really good about exercising recently. Maybe because I started drawing instead of face-stalking my free time away. Who knows?

I was having a really hard time adjusting to being back home after roaming freely around Perú for darn near five months. I deliberately avoided job searching before coming home because I wanted to relax and enjoy the holidays. However, that left me with not much to do after the holidays. When everyone else went back to work on January 3, I probably slept until 11 am. I was sinking into a depression, but I’m quite certain I’ve pulled myself out before it got too bad.

I’ve gone through phases already. At first, when family and friends asked “What are you going to do now?” I would smile and announce, “I have no idea!” like it was the best thing ever. But then, slowly but surely, the reality that I was no longer surrounded by free spirited nomads started to sink in. You see.. people round these parts, they don’t respect a response like that. In fact, they see it as a problem.

“Well, you need to remember that you have to make a living!”my great uncle reminded me about 100 times.

“I don’t need much to live,” I’d respond.

Then he’d look very sad.

Erm, since when does one need a six figure salary to get by? It’s so funny what other people think is important. Not even important, but necessary. When I told my cousin how much little I used to earn at Princeton (hey, there’s a reason I had a weekend job!) her eyes bugged out of her head and she asked how I did it! I started to let this get to me. I started to feel like a loser, but then I realized exactly what was going on here.

In general, the ones that are nagging me are the ones that exist in a comfortable little bubble. A very, very little bubble. The fast-food eating, reality TV show watching, measuring success by the size of your paycheck world that far too many people never break out of.

What would they like me to do? Get a job that I’m not at all excited about, but too afraid to quit because of the security it provides? Spend my money on nice things to fill up my apartment with? Pay someone to take care of things for me instead of learning how to do it myself? If this is your thing, then rock on with it, but personally, it sounds terrible to me. I refuse to be pulled into this pit of despair.

Since deciding to quit my comfy cushy job full-time, I’ve knocked some major items off my list of things to do before I die. Don’t confuse “making money” with “making a living.” I believe I’m quite good at that.

My time in Pisco

After I conquered the volcano (pretty much immediately after), I left for the next and final leg of my Peruvian adventure: Pisco! I took an overnight bus from Arequipa to Ica because busses don’t run straight to Pisco anymore. The earthquake in 2007 left a lot of the roads in bad shape, so it’s not exactly a tourist destination anymore. In fact, when I got to Ica and told people I was trying to get to Pisco, they corrected me. Conversations were as follows:

“Adonde va?”

“Voy a Pisco.”

“Eh? Paracas?”

“No.”

“Huacachina?”

“No. Voy a Pisco.”

“Paracas.” (the silly gringa must be mistaken, tourists don’t go to Pisco) Then they’d say something I didn’t understand at all. Something about buses and danger.

“Necesito ir a Pisco. Soy voluntario. Donde esta el bus a Pisco?”

::blank stare:: “Tienes que cuidado.” (I believe this means be careful).

Luckily, the Pisco Sin Fronteras web site was thoroughly informative, so I arrived in Ica knowing exactly what bus company to take and that the terminal was nearby. After another hour long bus trip and a taxi ride, I was standing in front of the brightly painted gate of the PSF volunteer house.

I had heard of PSF via a Burning Man newsletter. PSF began as a Burners Without Borders project, and grew into a permanent Peruvian organization. You can read all about it on the web site! Because of this affiliation with Burners, I was not at all surprised to be greeted by a warm and bubbly barefooted girl with a shaved head and shown around by an amiable ex-circus gentleman who sported the world’s only non-skeevy handlebar mustache.

Shockingly, I was one of very few burner volunteers. I’d say most people hadn’t even heard of Burners Without Borders! Apparently, the wonder of PSF is spread far and wide through word of mouth and posters in hostal common rooms.

The organization lived up to my high expectations. I slept on a cozy bunk bed atop a mattress stuffed with hay in a large “penthouse” dorm room. Every morning at 7:30 am we were served breakfast that usually consisted of hot and cold cereal, fruit salad, eggs, and rolls with butter and marmalade. Then we had a morning meeting, during which announcements were made, new and old volunteers were introduced or bid farewell, and the day’s jobs were explained and divvied up amongst the eager volunteers. There were roughly 60 of us at any given time, with people coming and going every day. Another thing covered at the  morning meeting was the hippies vs monsters count. Preceding this, the meeting facilitator would ask someone to explain the difference between hippies and monsters. Whatever bizarre explanation was offered always raised laughter, but rarely answered the question. It’s kind of a silly tradition that’s lived on too long, yet the volunteers don’t want to get rid of it. By the way, a hippie is a vegetarian and a monster eats meat. They do this count to plan for dinner, which takes all day to shop for and prepare.

People also sign up for household chores before and during the morning meeting. There are two large whiteboards in the courtyard/dining hall/tool yard that are used to assign tasks, keep track of accommodations, and convey information. I was always impressed and touched by how most people were happy to chip in and pull their own weight. This was not merely a community of lazy backpackers looking for a cheap place to sleep and party, it was a group of caring, genuine do it yourselfers. If something needed to get done, it got did. If someone needed help, they were helped. These were my kind of people. I’m grateful for every single one of them.

The jobs I worked on included: demolishing a brick shithouse (yes!) with a jackhammer and sledgehammer, teaching English, building an almost-chair (it was missing a leg) out of deconstructed shipping palate wood and rusty recycled nails, working at the child care/after school center, and cooking dinner for 50 people on a day the water was shut off. I also took over the yoga classes at 6:30 am after the previous teachers left.

Every experience was amazing in its own special way. Wish I could’ve stayed on longer and gotten more involved in a project. Maybe I’ll go back..

It was a lot of fun too! Every night they build a camp fire in an old wheelbarrow and sit around drinking beers and bullshitting. The Weds after I arrived was a national holiday, so we celebrated with a “bad taste” party Tuesday night. The idea was to dress in dreadfully tacky outfits, which can be purchased anywhere they sell clothes in Perú. Since I arrived on Monday and spent all day Tuesday cooking, I didn’t get the opportunity to buy any anime-print leggings for the affair. Fortunately, I don’t know shit about fashion and was able to pull together a horrible ensemble from my own backpack!

There was also a small party in the kitchen every night, called DISHCO (do you love it?!) A group of 4-5 people blast music and dance around the kitchen while cleaning up after dinner. At the end, they do a “mop off,” which is naturally a dance competition while mopping the floor. Fun and function! Such a great idea.

I met some truly incredible people at PSF who I plan to keep in touch with and possibly visit again at some point in the future. It was really my favorite part of all my time spent in Perú and I would strongly recommend it to anyone looking for a volunteer gig. So many organizations just want to take your money and let you spend most of your time sitting on your ass, or require you to commit to 6 months or have years of experience before you show up. But PSF won’t tell you you can’t do anything (except drugs or sex in the dorm rooms, but they WILL recommend nearby towns and hostals for these purposes). I mean… I built a chair.

2010 in review

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads This blog is doing awesome!.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,700 times in 2010. That’s about 4 full 747s.

 

In 2010, there were 68 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 116 posts. There were 83 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 24mb. That’s about 2 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was November 23rd with 42 views. The most popular post that day was welcome to the jungle.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, couchsurfing.org, en.wordpress.com, opticalillusionsgallery.blogspot.com, and alphainventions.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for asneuralslime, i can see the light between me and my mind, i hate vocab, hallway crush, and play doh quotes.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

welcome to the jungle November 2010

2

some adventures in a nutshell September 2010
2 comments

3

i hate vocab-intensive days August 2010

4

i can see the light between me and my mind November 2009

5

Last week I tried a sip of frog juice, and today i accidentally ate intestines. September 2010

Happy New Year

I haven’t made new year resolutions in a long time. I don’t really “celebrate” this “holiday” because I don’t believe in “time.” Although sometimes I do allow it to dictate my behavior. Hmm.

This morning I realized that resolutions are like to-do lists, and I LOVE TO-DO LISTS! So here are my resolutions:

1. Run the Columbia trail out AND back- that’s 30 miles baby.

2. Do one friggin pull-up.

3. Stop drinking soda- even diet coke. This one will be the toughest!

Those are all health related!

I also want to keep updating this blog on a regular basis. Sure, I’m back in Jerz now and don’t have any new travel plans yet, but I could probably still find interesting things to write about. Perhaps some Weird NJ road trips are in order. Anyone wanna pick me up?!?

 

Lauren vs the volcano: round deux

Between the completion of my yoga teacher training in Cusco and the beginning of my volunteer gig in Pisco, I spent a few days in Arequipa. I took the overnight Cruz del Sur bus which arrived the morning of Thursday, Dec 2. I’m still convinced that my presence in Arequipa rustles the feathers of some indigenous spirits, because as soon as I showed up I got that cold, unwelcome feeling in my bones again.

I don’t like Arequipa. Arequipa doesn’t like me.

It was great to spend time with Matt and have the chance to say goodbye to the friends who flaked out on my goodbye dinner, though. I had a couple of days to relax, wash laundry, and rearrange my backpack (I left my big suitcase at Matt’s apartment) before tackling El Misti, the giant volcano I hadn’t already attempted to climb.

El Misti stands at 5,822 meters above sea level, but I had altitude sickness pills this time!! The combination of those and a constant chewing of coca leaves warded off the unpleasant effing awful symptoms I experienced on the way up Chachani.

The tour guide came to pick us up at around 8:30 am, after Matt fed me the largest bowl of oatmeal I’ve ever eaten in my life. Carboloading! The guide picked us up at Matt’s apartment, but then walked us to the travel agency to pick up some gear. Why he didn’t just ask us to meet him there is beyond me, but this is how Perú works. Bass ackwards.

We loaded into a 4×4 that actually had all of it’s parts intact and didn’t break down once! Wow! The guide (whose name I can’t recall) asked our names. I introduced myself as LaLa, which I’d been going by throughout my travels in South America. Spanish speakers really struggle with “Lauren” and people (even gringos) seem to get a kick outta saying “LaLa.” It’s also really easy to remember, which kinda sorta makes one feel like a celebrity. There are exceptions, of course, another hiker I met on Misti told me that she didn’t like it because it sounded like a child’s nickname. So I told her to call me Lauren instead, which she did like. I love my name, I just don’t like when people butcher it or call me Laura or Laurie.

Anyhoo- I told the guide to call me LaLa, like the teletubby. Big mistake! He instantly called Matt “Po” and then giggled his face off. I felt terrible and tried to change the subject, but the look on Matt’s face was fiercely unforgiving.

The truck dropped us off at the base of the volcano, and the first thing I wanted to do was pee. I brought along my handy go girl urination system and was really excited to break it in. The packaging recommends practicing in the shower a few times to get the hang of it, but I never remembered to do that. I regretted not making practice more of a priority when the damn thing leaked out the back and all over my pants. Ha!

I packed up my pee funnel, tied a shirt around my waist, and marched over to where Matt was standing. “Well, I wet my pants,” I declared with a proud smile, “now lets climb a volcano!”

Our Misti guide was so much more awesome than our Chachani guide. He led us up to base camp very slowly, stopping every 20 mins or so to take a nice long break. We arrived at base camp in the early afternoon, with plenty of time to rest, eat, and take in the view before sunset (which was breathtaking).

Even though Misti’s peak is only slightly higher than our base camp on Chachani, I felt higher on Misti. We were facing Arequipa, and could see several other towns in the distance. They looked sooooooooooooo far away. Being on the volcano also provides a very different, much prettier, perspective of Pichu Pichu, the other other volcano. I badly wanted to see an airplane fly by, but we never did.

After dining on noodle soup and noodles with tuna, we watched one of the top three most incredible sunsets I’ve ever seen. Guide dude said you can see the Pacific ocean during sunset. I dunno about that, but the earth did look very shimmery beneath the dropping golden orb.

Overnight we were blessed with some rainsnowhail. Woohoo! Guideypants woke us up at 12:30 am, slipped some bread and cheese into the tent (just like prisoners in movies!) and we were on our way to the top by 1:something in the morning.

The going was tough, but Matt and I were tougher. The weather was pretty bad, and as we climbed higher, it got cloudier and windier. Pretty soon, visibility was limited to the brightly colored snow jackets of our three person hiking party.

Misti has two main peaks, with a little dip in between them. Once we reached the dip, the winds were howling and I couldn’t feel my hands, feet, or face. My water was frozen in the camelback hose. Guide and I reached the windy dip first. He wasn’t sure which was to go, and kept commenting on how bad the weather was. I was on the brink of tears. As soon as Matt reached us, I announced my desire to get the hell back down and OFF the volcano. Matt, who was a little less cranky than I was, said he didn’t climb all this way to turn around before seeing the peak or the crater or something.

When I realized I wasn’t going to have my way, I stomped my feet a little and then followed the two manly men us to the crater of the volcano.

It was neat and it smelled like sulfur. That’s all I have to say about that.

Then we got back down by sliding down the sandy slopes of the volcano! The sand was black, but when we slid through it, it turned white so it seemed like we were sliding down an enormous pile of oreo cookie crumbs. It was loads of fun and took about 1/5 the time spent climbing up the slippery rocks!

On the way down from base camp to the cars, Matt and I were both exhausted and began seeing car mirages which only turned out to be bushes or rocks.

We went from the ground to the top and back again in less than 24 hours! We did it! Volcano climbed! It was a great experience. Matt has pics on facebook.

Two car accidents in one night

I’m home from Perú.

I take that back! I meant to say that I’m no longer living in southern Perú and currently spend most of my nights at my parents’ house in north Jersey.

I have more to say about my adjustment to the United States and my last few weeks in Arequipa and Pisco, but that’ll have to wait until later.

I was in TWO car accidents today. We’re being hit with a blizzard which began early this afternoon. Secretly, I couldn’t be more stoked about it. Unfortunately the (awesome!) weather led to a couple of minor disasters today.

First, my boyfriend and I got into an accident on the road while he was driving us to his house from my folks’ place. We slid off the icy road right in the armpit of a slight turn and landed in a ditch in front of someone’s yard. Then we hit a smallish tree on the front passenger side.

I remember the way I felt right as it happened. I felt the car sliding. I saw the brush and trees that lined the road getting closer. I knew we were out of Eli’s control. My yoga training kicked in.

I breathed deeply, calmed my mind, and held my arms up in front of my body with my head tucked into my chest. We hit the tree pretty slowly, and there was hardly any impact. Neither of us was hurt.

After the tow truck dropped us off at a body shop with Eli’s car, my father came to pick us up. We loaded into his two-seater jeep wrangler with me in the back/trunk area. One of the body shop owners just so happened to be plowing the parking lot at that very moment and stopped to have a slightly lengthier than ideal chat with dad and Eli while I tried hide my illegal passengership

When we arrived at home, my dad drove into the house while backing into the driveway. With the white out of the snow and my big head blocking the rear window, I don’t think he was able to see the garage right before he smashed into it. I said “Stop! Stop! Stop!” a second or so before this went down. Remember- I was sitting in the back.

I don’t know if I would have reacted the same way in the face of a more perilous situation, but I’m incredibly pleased with the way I reacted (or didn’t?) to the whole mess. I felt totally calm and in control while dealing with both collisions, right on top of one another.

School’s out…

and I’m pretty much on vacation! It’s so amazing to have entire days to do whatever the hell I want. Waaaaait a minute, that’s what most of 2010 has been like for me.. (don’t hate!)

Today I told Paulina that I’d come over for meditation at 7 am, but slept until 10 am instead. It felt goooooooood to sleep in.

By the way, I AM A YOGA TEACHER!

Yesterday the rest of my classmates had a San Pedro ceremony in the mountains. I decided to skip it because I really feel like I’ve had enough. It ended up being a really cold, rainy day.. perfect conditions for snuggling up in a hammock and watching a movie.

I’m still hanging out in Cusco for now, which has no cinema, but it does have something better- little artsy shops/cafes run by rastas in which you can watch a DVD of your choice projected onto the wall while lounging in a pillow-heaped bed or hammock. All for less than $2. Heck yes! I watched Inglorious Basterds for the second time, and definitely enjoyed it more than the first.

Cusco is most excellent for the above and below reasons:

~it’s surrounded by pretty hills

~it’s VERY easy to get yummy vegetarian food

~it’s not even 1/10 as conservative/Catholic as Arequipa. but I think every place I’ve ever visited fits that description, sooooo..

~I can’t recall hearing a single car alarm for the entire time I’ve been here, and honking horns are rare.

~clean air! omfg!

~I’ve met so many more chill, friendly strangers  here than in Arequipa.

With that said, I’m going back to Arequipa tomorrow night. The main reason is to climb Misti (the volcano) with my friend Matt, who I miss like woah. I also need to exchange some luggage before heading to my next destination, which is….

PISCO!

I’m going to volunteer with Pisco Sin Fronteras/Burners Without Borders to help rebuild this city that was wrecked by a major earthquake 3 years ago. I’m so stoked. After leaving that crappy job I had in that crappy city I wasn’t happy in, I’ve really been able to turn this trip into what I originally wanted it to be.

And I’ll be back in dirty jerz on Dec 18. Mom said she’d save my Christmas ornaments for me so I can get my decoratin’ on after I get home. I’m really, really happy.