Week 14: The End (Beginning) is Near

My suitcase has been sitting idle in the corner of my room. Was it waiting for me? Summer to winter, summer to winter... It's the beginning of a New Age.

Monday

A beautiful day in Cusco. Not much to report on. My last Monday. I headed out to grab some drinks with Eli, his friends, and Marissa. I also spotted this outrageously long vent coming from a polleria:

Not trick photography

Tuesday

Another beaut in Cusco. I'm starting to think that the city is tantalizing us, torturing us... Speaking of torture:

You didn't forget about me, did you?

Thinking about things that I'm going to miss. Huayno, but I sure as hell won't miss Electric Huayno. 

Wednesday

Soccer night. Lots of people, a huge turnout. But the competition got a little intense, and fights almost broke out on a few occasions. 

Back home, a Steve Harvey look-alike was the latest on Yo Soy.

Thursday

Finally an eventful day. My last day of school: all tests and presentations concluded. 

Marissa and I attempted to visit Victor and arrange a bike rental for the following day. He wasn't around, so we headed to the San Pedro Market to buy some gifts. 

Greening Up, Bittersweet

Victor still wasn't around on the way back, so we headed to lunch with a small group of students. To a chevicherría of Spencer's choice. It was delicious.

From there it was directly to the Plaza for me. I did a little shopping, but I was more concerned about making my last attempt at finding the endemic Creamy-crested Spinetail. To do so, I was to scale the mountain slope to reach Sacsayhuaman.

Passing San Cristobol, I began my checklist. I reached the Inca Trail to Sacsayhuaman. With daylight fading and nobody in the kiosk, I passed right through.

Taking it in once again, once more

Didn't pay... But I had no time to think about it. The slopes were vegetated with mostly native species, and I was able to realize how different the structure of the native "woods" are. Nothing like Eucalyptus groves. It was really nice... Another one of those moments that made me think "I should have been doing this all along." It's odd though. It's basically my last birding experience here, and I'm just starting to get the hang of it. I'm just starting to comprehend the bigger picture. I understand what I'm seeing, and I'm more familiar with the birds. My vision is fine-tuned; I know where to look. And now I have to leave. I tell myself not to focus on the ones that I've missed but on the incredible variety that I have experienced.

It was nice to see lots of familiar species as I wound my way into the park. But there were also lots of visitors, so I kept on pushing higher, hoping to escape the noise and find the birds. Past Cristo Blanco, I cut through some fields to reach those Eucalyptus groves by Q'enqo.

Where the Wild Things Are

There, I re-intersected the road and made my way up, hoping for a miracle as the last minutes ticked.

A miracle of sorts

The bird wasn't meant to be, but the golden sunset on the surrounding ridges reminded me that it's not always all about the birds.

The incredible view, such a rich glow that's rarely experienced naturally, was my signal to head home. In a bus I would go...

Back home I took a quick shower and then headed for dinner with the crew. Man did I chow down on a big ole burger... My transition to familiar food has begun.

Identify the part of the scene that's real

Friday

Little planning is the best planning. I informally arranged a motorcycle rental with Victor over text. True to his word, a bike was ready for pick-up at 8 am. 

It is my last full day in Perú, and I'm going to spend it properly: on a bike. And Marissa has agreed to accompany me.

So we navigate the headache of Cusco traffic (it is morning rush hour) and head for the vicinity of ISA. There, we grab a breakfast of crepes (still basically thin pancakes) and then visit the school one last time. We end up staying for a while, chatting, reminiscing, and saying our goodbyes. For me, it was a satisfying parting of ways. I had a clear head to leave the city and hit the countryside.

Marissa was equally ready to find a more serene way of doing this. So with little forethought, we headed east and then north, crossing the ridges to get to the scenic Sacred Valley. I just cannot get enough of the Sacred Valley. Visiting just imparts a more relaxed sense of existence, even for Peruvian standards. 

We passed the time riding the country roads and just loving Perú. One more dose of el paisaje, just to soak it up. At an overlook, we had one of those postcard moments, where the scenery looks contrived. Can it really be true?

The sun feels delightful. The views even better.

Let's go for lunch now. We have our orders to be at home at 1 o'clock for a ceviche experience. There's a lot of hype, but I've never known Papa Jesús to not live up to expectation. The pressure is especially strong since we've literally just sampled some heavenly ceviche.

We arrive as P.J. is making the final preparations. A quick lesson on the processes involved and the transformation of the raw meat in lemon juice and we're qualified to take our first bites. And even with the rich taste of yesterday's ceviche still on our tongues, it's divine. More so than yesterday.

The meal has multiple courses, but Papa Jesús does not enjoy it along with us. He's off to play soccer. Instead, Anthony comes to eat and joke. Afterwards, we watch a few Youtube videos and say our heartfelt goodbyes. It's getting very real.

Now Marissa and I are twiddling our thumbs. Since we've got the bike until 8, we may as well use it. So we do just that. We ignore the imposing storm front that's rolling in and decide to head to Huacarpay. 

It was a cold and gusty ride, but it was well worth it. Another fresh breath of nature, this one distinct. Huacarpay is just a one-of-a-kind site. An oasis in the desert. Full of life. Water is life.

From the shore we observed the suite of species that I have become familiar with: the laguna regulars. But we also explored the little things, like the flowers and seeds of the sedges and the pith of the tortola.

Then we stood up and examined the big things. Marissa commented on the sky. It's angry. No, it's angsty.

Next the mountains. Will we miss them? Will we miss it all?

The Apus watched us as we made our exit. They blessed our voyage and our lives.

On the return, we made sure to stop for some world famous Oropesa bread. Before long we were greeted by the misery of Cusco traffic. And night had descended fully by the time we made it back to Victor's. Another goodbye...

Then we met some buddies on a street corner for some Anticuchos. Finally! Street-prepared beef hearts, a stomach grenade. Was it armed or not? It was tasty.

Then we split up to get ready for the last night, the big closing night. I was lacking energy, but was blessed with bread. So I made my way to the Plaza with a fist-full of fresh bread.

Norton's it was. But it felt forced to me. I just wasn't feeling it like before. Maybe I was drained of sentimentality. A few drinks there, a few in other clubs, and that was it for the night for me.

Saturday

Marissa and I agreed to rise early (like before 6) to get in one more checkmark on the Cusco book. Well, she already had the checkmark. But I needed a guide for Baratilla, Cusco's black market. Like Belén, it's just overwhelming. And apparently best to go early. But I had to go early; I had a flight at 12 (or so I thought). 

Once there, Marissa led the way through the tarp-lined alleys that made up the market. If some undaunted surveyor were to map out the layout, it may appear like, like... This may be odd, but the best image that I can recall is of Robert Downey Jr.'s chest in Iron Man 2 when his blood toxicity is out of whack.

iron man 2 blood toxicity

Anyway, Marissa was talking about how easy it was to get lost there, and I was just thinking come on, how hard can it be? But every turn we made revealed an ever-sprawling continuity. All I wanted were some old coins or bills and a record or two. The coins were the easy part. But finding the one vinyl dealer among the hoards of tool, movie, book, food, textile, and keepsake vendors was not easy. No organization, no clue. Even vendors couldn't point us in the right direction.

But eventually we spotted some c.d.'s which prompted an interrogation of the seller. And I'll be damned if the record lady wasn't her friend and market neighbor. She reassured us that she was on the way to set up. We loitered for a while and felt out of place. So we ventured to a nearby plaza to wait it out. And that we did. Until we made our way back to examine the merchandise. My mind was set on a Belkings record, but it wasn't to be. So I settled on a nice little Huayno record with sentimental value. Inti Raymi is an Incan festival that occurs during June up at Sacsayhuaman.

Art

Fairly satisfied, we boarded a bus and jetted home. There, I finished my packing and said my last goodbyes to my host parents. Then P.J. shuttled me to the airport. 

Check-in was not very straightforward because Avianca did not have a 12 o'clock flight after all. It was at 11, and that explained Rachel's flight to Lima at that time. Well it was 10:20 or so. I was super fortunate to have Papa Jesús accompany. He worked some magic and got my bag checked at last minute. Goodbye Papa Jesús, thank you for saving me there.

I rushed through security to find Rachel standing in the line to board the plane. So I jumped in there (sorry for cutting, everyone) and got my ass on that plane. Such a close call; it horrified me to think of the possibility of missing my first of three flights.

But maybe it would have all worked out. I did have a 12-hour layover in Lima. Maybe there are other ways of getting there before my flight to Fort Lauderdale. 

Back to reality. I am in Lima, thanks to P.J., early arrivals, and Avianca. The next 12 hours is passed with Rachel. We chat, eat, and watch lots of SpongeBob. Then our buddies begin to trickle in. But not all of them. Others also had travel complications, but they did not make it out of Cusco on time like I did. So we passed our last hours and our last beer with a slightly reduced crowd.

My real last goodbyes. And they sucked. But it had to be done...

Overnight flight to Fort Lauderdale. I pass it sleeping. Early morning arrival. 

The first sentence in English that I heard was "I couldn't sleep cause I had took a nap all day." It was then that I knew that I was home. Leaving the airport to head to another gate, I got my first bird in the USA after three months. It was a pre-dawn chorus of Boat-tailed Grackles. I'm happy it was a native species.

Some things that struck me in my first few hours:

1. Smokers, lots of smokers

2. Rice Krispies

3. Pink Camo

4. And f^&%!#g sky rats. I could live a long and happy life without seeing another Starling.

I grab some long overdue Krispy Kreme doughnuts. For a few hours, I try to work on the blog, but I'm on the edge of sleep. It's a worrying feeling thinking that you may fall asleep without a travel companion. But I'm not missing that flight to Atlanta, so I stay up.

~~I want to come home. It's been so long since I've been away~~

And then I'm back asleep on the plane. Waking up in the descent. Welcome to winter, welcome to recently completed subdivisions, welcome to family, welcome home. My Mom, my Dad, and my sis greet me. And the rest is history.

Sunday

There will be no profound conclusions; they came along the way. I've been home for a while now (as I write). Here's my after photo:

Would it be a true after shot if I didn't wear the same thing? (photo by Traci Moss)

I've changed, the seasons have changed, and it's cold.

Thanks for reading.