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.

Week 13: Pajareando Manu/ Diarios de Motocicleta pt. 2

Monday

Sick to the stomach. I wonder if it has anything to do with that egg sandwich that I ate yesterday afternoon? Papa Jesús made it for me Saturday morning.

Cusco is full of surprises

Tuesday

ISA has been very sentimental lately, and I almost feel like it's on purpose. First with Thanksgiving, then we had a super sappy class where we watched Calle 13's Latinoamérica and fell in love with latin culture again. The experience is coming to its culmination, and it's difficult to let go. 

Then, this evening, we watched Diarios de Motocicleta, a film about Che Guevara:

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0318462/

What a damn good movie with a lot of interesting lessons. And it was perfectly timed: lots of parallels with the past and the future.

The Machu Picchu scene in particular was worth mentioning. They did it properly. My idea of a good trip to this site was well represented by the movie.

Today is also Mama Empe's birthday. Between classes, I had to run to the market to get her something. Man, I can't think of the last time I saw a Hyundai CVX Intercooler.

Damn

That night, we had a chill birthday celebration. A few friends, family, and three different cakes. 

Wednesday

A bunch of school in prep for the trip. I couldn't make soccer that night, and it bummed me out. But sacrifices had to be made. 

I was Made for Lovin' You on the bus brought me back to my early days in Cusco. 

Thursday

Had to go to my first class at 7:30 to give a presentation.

But then I realized a dream.

Before leaving for Perú, I was looking through a world birding hotspots book and learned about Manu National Park. Globally considered one of the most diverse concentrations of birds in the world... How could I miss that?

I wouldn't. I would solicit the guidance and expertise of Nestor once more.

He and I were to meet at a bus station in San Jeronimo at 10:30. We did so, but we ended up waiting around a bunch before the car left. The driver was in no real hurry.

But it was a really beautiful day in Cusco.

The passengers in the van joked about the DIY mounted TV. Put on a movie!

Instead, Nestor came through when the front seat dudes asked if anyone had music. People in Perú carry their music in little USB's that are conveniently popped into the radio. Nestor's music was not quite what I expected. A blend of 80's Peruvian and western music. A little Bee Gees, a little George Michael, some Toto. I was just waiting for Whip-It and the Safety Dance to come on.

But I couldn't wait all day, so I went to sleep.

The highway was not as I envisioned. It was mostly one-laned and all dirt. Real rough, not very safe. We stopped in Puertocambo for lunch, but I was too sick to eat. Nestor's picks had concluded, and the driver took control of the music. Electronic Huayno?? No thank you.

Back in the van, back to sleep.

But when I woke up. Man, when I woke up. I swear we were in a different world. Nestor looked at me, and I said "Otro mundo." He nodded and said "Otra planeta." He was so right. The Cloud Forest

Whoa. REALLY steep drop-offs were shrouded by fog, really messing with my perception. The landslides were obvious enough though...

Finally we disembarked at a seemingly arbitrary spot to "begin our day." Visibility was low, and vapor enclosed us. I wasn't sure how we were going to be able to spot anything, but, between gaps in the waves of water vapor, we started to see some action. A Scarlet-bellied Mountain-Tanager's vivid reds nearly parted the sea of cloud. Andean Parakeets and Guans spiced the pot.

We weren't on the road long before we turned down a side road. Nestor motioned for me to pull the strung up sandal that formed a sort of Andean doorbell. A dude named John greeted us, and Nestor began to negotiate.

You see, most people arrange for their arrival. It's a whole organized deal. Nestor made a big point of us improvising and backpacking without any sort of fixed agenda. I guess he was trying to gain respect or pity.

It kind of worked. I mean we got a bunkhouse, but it would end up being the most expensive stay of the weekend. And nobody else was staying there.

Wayqecha Lodge

We took advantage of the little daylight that we had left, walking an unsuccessful trail before being captivated by a male Long-tailed Sylph's display of aggression. It looked as if it were sending electrical pulses through its neon-rigged body. Almost like bioluminescence, but in a bird.

Shortly thereafter, the rains (which are apparently a reliable nightly phenomenon) set in. We headed for shelter, counted our species, and ate our dinner. That night, Nestor and I shared a bunkhouse. I was out in a flash.

6 lifers on this first taste of the unknown. 

Friday

It's before 5 am. I hear no alarm but Nestor preparing for the day. We leave the bunk looking like two earth-toned jockeys. 

Nestor's lead

Not much going on around the lodge, so it's back up the highway, where I'm showered by lifers. The morning's progression is marked by the advance of the cloud front from the valley and our call to eat breakfast. 

The day breaks in the Cloud Forest

The road is productive, and we log 20 species before breakfast, including some show-stoppers like Hooded Mountain-Tanager and Golden-collared Tanager.

Breakfast at 7. It's the first taste of bacon that I've had in 3 months, and it's a good omen for the day. As is this perfect Shining Sunbeam as we make our exit via El Trocha Zorro:

Aptly Named

More specialties show themselves up close and personal as we ease downhill.

Scarlet-bellied Mountain-Tanager: note the research band

The trail is closed in the low canopy, but we add many species. And the further we continue downhill, the less the trees are bound in a dwarf state.

The idea is to connect with the highway, but the trail is in need of some maintenance. We're forced to improvise and exit to the highway, which was exciting.

On the highway, birding is generally easier. This stretch ended up being one of my favorites; we saw some gems. We also heard some gems. Passing through slopes scarred by violent landslides, we tuned into the bizarre song of the Andean Solitaire, which recalls the squeaks of a playground swingset. 

https://macaulaylibrary.org/asset/140544\

Nestor heading into Middle Earth

Danger: slippery when wet

I couldn't resist scaling a small hill that would afford some nice views. Nestor offered no opposition, so we climbed the loose rock and sill until we reached the prominence. 

Along the highway's numerous bends were tunnels and lots of nice flocks. All kinds of weird and fresh taxa came to satiate our visual thirst. With each new one, I would signal Nestor's attention. His response would be something like: "Ahhh, disfruta este momento" or "Mira esta belleza."

Rufous-breasted Chat-Tyrant

(Gould's) Collared Inca

Barred Fruiteater

Masked Trogon

Eventually we spotted a vacant van that we would solicit to bring us a little closer to Amazonia. So we bummed a ride. I would say that we hitchhiked, but I had to pay for the ride. Still, this trip is showing some crazy parallels to Diarios de Motocicleta. Backpacking and hopping in random vehicles when the chance presents itself. I mentioned this to Nestor and he just let out a big laugh as he recalled them trashing the 1939 Norton.

We didn't ride for long, but of course I got sick. But what didn't help was the terrible 80's mashup that had George Michael and three rounds of Take on Me. People down here love that song. Just imagine what I must have missed while dozing. 

We stopped at a much lower site, which was more familiar habitat-wise to me. A scenic waterfall marked our lunch site. 

Avifauna resembled that of Aquas Calientes. Black Phoebes and White-capped Dippers played in the waters below as a hen Andean Cock-of-the-Rock scaled the rockface nearby. 

Many lifers filled our dusky walk to the next home, Andean Cock-of-the-Rock Lodge. Hell even Nestor saw some new ones. Apu Kañay Huay reassured us that we were in the right place in this world.

It was dark by the time we got to this world-renowned lodge. Nestor's masterful negotiations continued. Half the price of the previous night, and we get separate rooms. No dinner though...

As we revised our totals, the large group of Japanese folks and their guides quickly and excitedly exited the comedor. A lodge guide had called in an owl with playback, and it was time to attempt to spotlight it.

Rufescent Screech-Owl

Back inside, Nestor signaled for me to come to the back. He and I were treated to dinner with his buddies out of sight of the "typical" guests. It was awesomely authentic. We shot the shit as we enjoyed our soup. Formalities aside, these are real people with real things to say. 

So far, I'm liking the organization (or lack thereof) of the trip. We're doing it authentic: no agency, wandering Carretera Manu, showing up at Albergues to stay the night. And we don't get that red-carpet treatment that puts up a barrier between you and the employees. We're just friends sharing meals and stories.

That night, I intended to review my Birds of Perú PDF, but I crashed super hard and slept like a Capybara.

The life birds are picking up: 28 on this last day of November.

Saturday

¡Feliz diciembre!

The most productive day of the trip, bird-wise.

Again we rise early. It's refreshing to arise before the morning chorus. That way you don't get the feeling that you've missed anything. I spend the first few minutes watching the feeding station out back, watching Hummers buzz around and looking forward to seeing their colors in full morning light. 

Nestor joins me as we walk up the road, where we pick up a ton of Tanagers. Among them are some real beauties like Golden Tanager and Orange-eared Tanager. Down by the river, Nestor spots a Sunbittern, my first since Puerto Maldonado.

Back at the lodge, a mammal assault is underway. Capuchins are covering the trees and bamboo by the lodge, making racket and scaring off other stuff. Two Agoutis and a Bolivian Squirrel stand undaunted.

Tool-using

Lil' Agouti

Bolivian Squirrel

Stunner

With the departure of the Japanese group, the Monkeys lost their restraint. Capuchins came rushing to the lodge, jumping up and down on the retracted screens, biting the screens, tearing the bug netting, breaking branches on trees, and making rushes to the table to steal handfuls of butter.

Butter Lips

Nice to meet you, I'm George

After our breakfast, we headed on down the road, beginning a new checklist. We cross over the river once more, which is the purest I've seen while in Perú. It crystalline white waters reflect the expectations that I had of the wild jungle.

The walk started with some activity, but it quickly died out. For miles, we literally did not detect a bird. Our attention shifted to bugs due to necessity. When the birds aren't distracting you, you can actually see some cool stuff.

Clear-winged Butterfly

We stopped to snack on fruit and continued on a little bit further. Then it was time to hail another car. This one just seemed to be a father with his two sons. We packed in and continued our descent.

I kind of dozed off. Then we disembarked. And it was a wise move because everything changed. Lifers rained down like confetti at a national championship ceremony.

Long-tailed Tyrant

Speckled Chachalaca 

We had descended to a more familiar Amazonian elevation. Avifauna overlapped with Iquitos and Puerto Maldonado, and it was nice to get some of these guys on my Cusco list.

From here on out, the terrain was more or less planar. Overwhelmed by this amount of activity, we made our way into Patria, where the rain finally caught up with us. But not before a migrating group of Swallow-tailed Kites passed overhead. I really wanted to see this species, mis paisanos, in Perú.

Searching for a roadside shelter, Nestor pointed out a pair of Purple Honeycreepers, which shocked me so deeply that I'm surprised to have remained standing. It's not very often that you see a bird with bright yellow legs and a royal coat of feathers.

https://ebird.org/species/purhon1

We did find somewhere to duck under and enjoy our lunches as the rain fell. And this was my favorite moment of the trip. Eating a nice lunch and observing the continuous loop of bird activity unfolding before our eyes. The Kites made another appearance among the hundreds of swallows and swifts. Nestor admitted that he wished he were a swift, myself a swallow. Other more grounded species appeared periodically, and we made sure to point them out.

Eventually we moved on, but we didn't make it very far before the rain pushed us under another shelter. We observed some more species from there, but capitalized on a passing van when the time came.

We rode just a bit more, and a new species greeted us upon our departure.

Crimson-crested Woodpecker

But the rain wouldn't let off. So our walk to civilization was wet and relatively uneventful, save for a run-in with some cattle and dogs.

Did you forget that it was the rainforest?

Before long, we reached a lodge that Nestor was familiar with: Bambu Lodge. Asking if I wanted to check it out, he ducked his way through a small trail entrance and towards a house. He approached singing in Quechua and was greeted by some old pals. We peered through the door and got in on their Fast and Furious 8 viewing. Nestor had seen the movie and remarked on how good it was.

After a while, Nestor asked if this was good, and I said sure, why not? He worked his magic again, and we were staying in separate full bunkhouses for the night for 1/4 of the price of the first night. They were neat bamboo structures with bathrooms, showers, beds, etc. Maybe I was foolish to not photograph our accommodations, but my mind was streamlined on the birding.

Which we did until nightfall. Lots of impressive hummers frequented the feeding stations, rounding out my day's lifers.

When night fell, we made our way for the guide/resident dining hall. While guests dined separately, we joked and chatted like old friends.

End of day lifer total: 34!

Sunday

Well, this is it. The last day in the jungle for me, for a long time probably.

And it's just raining with no sign of stopping. Still, we took advantage of our last bit of time here, seeking shelter and spotting birds when the rain slightly let up, and bird activity picked up.

In fact, it was my most speciose single checklist. More tropical Tanagers, Piculets, and hummers entertained us. The Piculet family was especially cute. Two parents and two kids showed up, and we watched their family lessons. Where to look for food, how to extract it? Follow our lead, kids.

Some of my favorite moments:

Seeing my North American buddies on their wintering grounds. It's always such a mysterious phenomenon. I saw species that I've seen in the yard in Georgia, including Broad-winged Hawk, Scarlet Tanager, Eastern Wood-Pewee, and Swainson's Thrush.

Swainson's Thrush

Plus this outrageous beauty... I picked up my binoculars to look at a little movement around a cluster of Verbena flowers. Expecting one of those nocturnal Sphix Moths, I was shocked to see a hummingbird. A very tiny one with a hilarious crest.

Rufous-crested Coquette

After hours and hours of hanging out around the lodge, the rain slowed. So we kissed our accommodations goodbye and headed further east yet, making our way to Pillcopata, locally know as "La ciudad blanca." Can you imagine why?

We don't make it too far before we hail a car heading back towards Cusco. And just like that we're packed into a full car, leaving the jungle.

In between my long bouts of napping, I reflected on the weekend. It was a great mix of being surprised by species that I know and blown-away by ones that I don't.

And the whole migrant thing is just incredible. They travel thousands of miles twice a year with apparent ease. Meanwhile, I'm forced to enlist the help of clunky pieces of metal full of other me's to get around, even now.

End of day lifer total: 13, End of trip species total: 149

It was a trip of milestones:

-Cusco #200 (Variable Antshrike)

-Perú #300 (Black-and-white Seedeater)

-World #800!!!!! (Little Ground Tyrant)

End of week lifer total: 81

Week 12: CONW and Easy Rider/ Diarios de Motocicleta

Week 12 has been exceptional. Fate-driven and self-driven, it will be one of my most memorable in this wonderful country.

This one is kind of long, so here's an advisory for those inclined to skipping or skimming. If you are to read anything on this page, read Sunday's entry. It's my personal favorite.

Monday

Open your eyes. Time is ticking. 

It's tough to will yourself into it; it just has to happen. Put yourself in the right situations and avoid preoccupations of school because learning is everywhere. Sometimes you've got to see the world like a child does. 

I kinda feel like my eyes have been a bit closed to the world lately, and it's time to change that.

I finally accomplish another of my goals: familiarizing myself with my district, San Sebastian. Breaking habit is good for perspective. It reminds you that there is magic out there. It hasn't disappeared, you've just become temporarily blind to it.

Here we come, walkin down the street

The Condor from below

San Sebastian Condor

Cusco's famous title

What kinds of things did I see? A Dude lookalike and a Peruvian Stan Lee. Another guy was wearing an inverted crucifix necklace. It was a very first-week thing to do, but now seemed like the best time to give it a shot.

Tuesday

Eyes wide open now. Eli and I make our way to a local motorcycle agency to see about getting some bikes for the weekend. There, we meet our boy Victor. The whole deal is relaxed. We discuss the possibility of renting a few motorcycles as if we're discussing items on the menu at lunch.

Leaving the secluded plaza where the agency is hidden, a little bit of magic touches us. I glimpsed a small yellow bird in passing, with a Rufous-collared Sparrow in tow. And I quickly got the feeling that it was unusual and out of place. And boy was it: a Connecticut Warbler. A life bird for me.

It was behaving out of sorts, foraging frequently in the open, unconcerned by passersby and my cell phone-extending approach. It appeared as though this classically-secretive Warbler had just arrived from a ways off and was in need of whatever fuel it could encounter.

I tried to get Eli to share my excitement, but I wasn't even really aware of the significance of our sighting myself.

iPhone shot: confirmed within the day

CONW sightings in Perú

We spotted one of the few Connecticut Warblers ever reported in Perú through eBird. And the first to ever be reported from the district of Cusco. What are the odds that we'd see this bird, which was probably born 4-5,000 miles from here a few months ago, in the heart of Cusco. On a sidewalk...

I had to get back to watch another movie at ISA and was just on cloud 9.

The movie was good though. It was La Teta Asustata, a Peruvian movie that addressed the years of political violence in the late 20th century. 

Wednesday

This morning, I head back to the Connecticut Warbler plaza with my optics to get better views and photos. But it seemed as though the bird had moved on by this point. I did almost get attacked by a dog though. 

Connecticut Warbler habitat

It's the day before Thanksgiving, but it certainly doesn't feel like it. While in Tottus, the supermarket, I listened to "Santa Claus llegó a la ciudad:" Santa Claus is coming to town. 

All ISA students were asked to bring a Thanksgiving dish to our family meal. I decided to go with mac and cheese, and Papa Jesús excitedly offered to help out. So we hit up the mall to get the ingredients together. In some ways, he is like my Dad. Out in public, he's always greeting familiars. 

As we departed the concrete market, I noticed a peculiar vendor stand. It was full of carnivorous plants and orchids. That's no good. How strange to see the international plant trade actually in front of me. These plants are my friends; I know their systems. And their systems are in no shape to be providing these rare plants for people's windowsills. Unlike the Connecticut Warbler, these plants did not make a series of choices that brought them here. They leave it to us to make their decisions, and we need to do a better job.

That night's soccer was a bit tough. Few people showed up due to studies and rainy weather, so we played two hours straight with just two teams. In the rain. A bit brutal this time, but soccer is very important to us. 

Thursday

THANKSGIVING!!!!!

My first away from home. It began with classes. 

But I've experienced a return of interest lately; I've been walking around more. Taking it all in. 

In the afternoon, Papa Jesús and I prepared my dish with suggestions from my Mom plus a little Peruvian twist. We fired it in a Eucalyptus-fueled oven down the street. It cost about a dollar, and it was the key move. Good idea, Papa Jesús. 

Mac and cheese in hand, P.J. dropped me off at ISA, where a touching evening of camaraderie ensued. We performed our rehearsed talents, in the form of skits, songs, and dances. Then we each shared our thankfulness before dinner. The emotions were high, some wonderful things were said, and I felt so close to my fellows in that moment. Dinner was awesome taste-wise and satisfaction-wise (it's special to provide for loved ones).

Although I originally turned down an offer to get drinks with Eli after the dinner, I came to my senses. It's Thanksgiving, why would I not enjoy it with my buddies???

Norton's was the spot, a perfect precursor to Eli's and my upcoming cross-country tour.

Lots of pool-playing, good times. Blues Traveler sent me off at a reasonable hour; I had a big day coming up.

Friday

This big day was another of Spencer's wildly-hatched ideas. Parque de la Papa in Pisaq. I trust the man, and I was not going to miss out on one of his adventures, even if it means missing another class.

According to plan, I'm in front of Orion (not the constellation, the supermarket) at 6:30. Despite all of Spencer's warnings and concessions that we're winging it, we made it to the Pisaq bus stop. We grabbed some bread, hopped on, and made our way to Pisaq...

Where we hopped off at the bridge and made our way to a market. A bit of miscommunication; it took a while to meet up with our man, but it was a nice morning anyway.

Pisaq and us

Finally we did encounter him. A man dressed in traditional clothes who spoke Quechua and Spanish. Super nice, super knowledgeable. We contracted a car with him and headed for the hills, the hills of potatoes. Our first stop was ParuParu, one the six active conservation/agriculture/subsistence communities that make up Parque de la Papa. We were welcomed by a small group of locals who performed a song and blessed us with a shower of flowers.

Huddled around the large laguna where Andean Geese and mysterious Coots made their livings, we learned some basic, but impressive facts about the collaboration. The communities work to preserve and research over 1,400 species of potatoes on nearly 23,000 acres. Not to mention the other crop varieties that they conserve. I was happy to pick up a much wanted lifer here: the Black-faced Ibis.

Laguna ParuParu

From there, we moved to the site of the seed bank. Along the way, we were impressed by the authenticity of this community. Clean, natural, self-supporting. And the people were all super friendly. They waved and greeted us all the way. It took me back to Paramis, back in the Puno days, in terms of the idealness of the way of life.

When we arrived at the seed bank, we were presented a large bowl of a variety of potatoes that must have come straight down from heaven. Colors, flavors, and textures were all unique. We savored the manna, basking in the sunlight and realizing our great fortune.

Papas Silvestres: Didn't realize they were in the same family as tomatoes

Then we hopped into the seed bank. There were few potatoes in the structure because it was planting time; we had seen several greenhouses of freshly planted potatoes. Nonetheless, the building was a feat of engineering. It was so cool inside. Water basins underlay the racks of potatoes that were cooled by natural air circulation from outside.

Before we departed, we were given a more strenuous lesson on the governance of the communities and the nature of the varieties of potatoes and their threats: climate change being the greatest. Although our concern for this information was genuine, our eyelids were heavy. Potatoes are like sleep medicine.

We were grateful to be released. After conversing with a local artisan, we crashed on the grass. What a glorious day. Content and full of organic and natural potatoes, my buddies quickly slipped into an impromptu siesta.

But I had seen a suspicious hummingbird. It seemed to be hanging around the underside of the seed bank's straw awnings: nesting? Sure enough! A new species for me!

Mountain Velvetbreast at nido

Action Shot

Laurel came over to appreciate this wonder of life before we shipped out.

Where to? Lunch!

Llama in the street

We dozed and gazed out the window at the beautiful countryside as we made our way towards a new part of the park. Exiting the vehicle, two more Black-faced Ibis flew overhead, being pursued by an agitated Mountain Caracara.

Lunch was nice. We had the place to ourselves, and we were served healthy, local, and organic food alongside our guide and driver.

And that was it. Time to go back to Pisaq. It was absolutely ideal: nothing rushed, we took our time and enjoyed every part of the experience. And it was a sort of private tour. It was as if we were VIP's, and we were to be given special treatment.

Back in Pisaq, we sought out some damn cheap ice cream. I think it cost about twenty cents. It's like older generations always talk about: things were cheaper back in my day; we paid a nickel to go see a movie. I wonder if we're experiencing the old days in Perú. Are things bound to change with "progress?"

Satiated, we boarded a car and headed back to Cusco. A song was playing in the van as we arrived, and it caught my ear. I made a mental note and tracked it down. The song is called "Hasta la Raíz." The version that was playing is a catchy pop cover by Corazón Serrano. But I'm glad that I didn't stop there... The original artist is an exceptional talent. Check out her NPR Tiny Desk concert:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JODaYjDyjyQ

Since then, Natalia Lafourcade has become one of my favorites, a new idol. Gosh her voice is heavenly.

Also from the day:

Kids: remember who will come and get you if you don't eat your cereal bar

Saturday

A volunteer day: Navidad Azul with ISA. A large group of us headed to the community of Huayna Asungate way up in the mountains. Bearing gifts, we made the one-way, three hour trip.

A beautiful site no doubt. Many kids greeted us upon arrival. We danced and played for a while. A clown tried his best to entertain. Bread and hot chocolate for all the kids.

After the gift-giving, they made their way back towards their respective homes, and we did the same.

In the shadow of Asungate

That evening, the group headed for pizza and then watched the Grinch together.

Sunday

Freedom is a hard concept to pin down unless you are right smack in the middle of it. Then it is so real, and nothing else is even of concern. I believe this is what Eli and I discovered for ourselves on this unforgettable day. It's the kind of thing that we both looked at each other and said "Why have we not done this every free moment?"

It began when we met our buddy Victor at his place to pick up the bikes. Could it have been easier? I'm really not sure. Sign two documents, photograph our IDs, give us gloves and helmets, and send us on our way. Sure, I believe you two have enough experience with the bikes and the country to take these two Honda 250's wherever you want.

Eli and I could not have been more tickled. We hit la Avenida with a force and blazed south in search of an adequate breakfast. One painless police check later and we were out of the city, reborn in the country. Winding past my previous week's haunts, Eli and I made our way towards San Salvador to try out a restaurant that I had seen the other weekend.

9:45 am. What better time for two giant plates of fried trout, papas, rice, salad, and a liter of Coke? We mused on our good fortune in terms of weather and freedom as a Black-backed Grosbeak brightened my day past 100% brightness. 

Back on the road in no time. Can we help it? It's so addicting. It's like the road is one all powerful siren that sings us towards its mysteries. A Giant Hummingbird flutters in my peripheries: its movements clearly slow-motion.

~I don't care about pollution, I'm an air-conditioned gypsy~

Pisaq: time to leave our asphalt mistress. Goodbye to her certainty, to her comforts.

We attempt to discover a dirt trail that Victor let us in on. We cling to the Urubamba River, where I see Yellow-Finch species in a completely candid moment.

Our paved confidence carries on as we speed down this unknown trail. But this foolishness catches up with us when Eli plows into a mud patch, careening and serpentining his way to the other side. Right on his ass, I brake quickly and nearly drop her. A friendly farmer pulls me out and redirects me.

After winding through a tight riverside forest of Eucalyptus, we reach our dead end. Dogs hound us on our way back out. Two tiny dogs team up on Eli and rip at his pants as he speeds by.

Then we're at Taray, where Eli remarks "Well, I think we've found Taray." Luckily, more dirt follows. Unluckily, we make another wrong turn down a small access trail to a cornfield. Eli hits the dirt as children head to the fields with backpack sprayers of chemicals. But he brushes it off like a big boy, and we're back on our feet in no time. This time on the right trail.

And oh is it right. SO right. We absolutely haul ass for miles and miles, never leaving el Río Urubamba, nuestro compadre. The whole scene is one of the past. The world that we have entered and are exploring on our own accord is refreshingly not modern. The road is dirt. It parallels the wide valley of corn. Vehicles are sparse. Rules are absent. Birds and nature are present. And man the scenery. Perú is so many things, and I cannot even begin to describe the culmination of its diverse terrain. 

During my lead, I put an end to a lasting nemesis here: the Aplomado Falcon. It rises awkwardly from the trail, revealing its B&W, geometrically perfect tail. Passing underneath, its rich rufous, white, and blue tones project downwards. There is something special about a Falcon...

Miles and miles of flight and groundedness. The moment is always the present when freedom is the only governor. 

That does not mean that reality cannot touch us. In our case, reality was a dead battery that struck my bike mid turnaround (we took a wrong turn in Huycho). We troubleshot a bit and called our boy, who confirmed that Eli's idea of a rolling start was our only option. I'll be damned if it didn't work!

Eli Troubleshooting

And that was our strategy any time we found it necessary to leave the bikes for a moment. But it wasn't necessary very often. We came to ride.

So we continued to burn through the Andean countryside, zig-zagging along the river and flying along flood control structures until we reached civilization again. But there was some misinterpretation of the "bike trail" along the way, and we ended up navigating some tight streets with lots of obstacles. Aqueduct designed streets with vendors, kids, and casual kick-backs. It was a miracle that we made it out of there without falling in a ditch.

That put us in Urubamba, where we debated our next move. Head to the end of the line at Ollantaytambo or make the climb to Chinchero?

Well not much was waiting for us in Ollantaytambo, so we decided to head to Chinchero in search of some more dirt. My old girl struggled up the mountains, but she wouldn't be defeated. It wasn't long before we were on top of the world, face-to-face with the Tekse Apus. And they were disgruntled. A formidable stormfront greeted us with lightning and chilly breezes.

We sought out some water and shelter in the form of an open shed, where we chilled out, chatted, and ate snacks. The scenery was impressive, and we watched the storm like the unfolding of a conflict in a soap opera. 

Eventually we grew restless and decided to explore the high Andean countryside, maybe search out some off-road potential.

And that we did. Racing around the chacras on dirt roads, I'm sure we both felt the same happiness in the moment.

At one point, we reached an idyllic stretch of grassy trail. You better believe we pushed our limits on the return, having learned the terrain. Eli later remarked that he expected to have seen a leprechaun at any moment. It was such fitting description of the landscape.

Something in the Air

At Laguna Huaypo

Mutually satisfied, we decided to begin the ride back, which was distinct from our route so far. It was all highway. Through Chinchero and Poroy, we upped our paved miles. And we hit our top speed in the downhill: 75 mph.

Eventually that spit us out at the western side of Cusco, an area that neither of us were really all that familiar with. The best way to describe our return to the urban center was mayhem. Everybody on the road was making strategic moves as if we were racing to find El Dorado. Meanwhile, a group of people paraded a coffin down the street with the accompaniment of a live band.

Eli and I then fiddled around, trying to get our bearings and make our way towards something familiar. It was at this point that Eli pointed out my very flat rear tire. Fortunately, we got oriented and limped back to the rental agency.

Victor was very embarrassed by the poor condition of the bike and refunded 50%. So... I rented a motorcycle for a day and rode the hell out of it all over kingdom come for about $18.

I'd say that's a successful day.

I then accompanied Eli to a chifa restaurant, where I enjoyed an ice cream cone.

Oh, that explains the looks

Our stats on the day:

We really hauled ass. If there was any time to be wasted (there was not), we didn't waste it.

I'm amazed at how easy it is to get over to the Sacred Valley, it's just right there.

We spent about 100 miles on the road, probably over 30 off-road. Not a bad proportion in our eyes.


Four lifers on the week.