Yoga at 14,000 feet

I still haven´t figured the connection between the quality or variety of marijuana and the effects. The problem is I just don´t smoke enough to do a proper scientific study, there´s never enough data to control for environmental factors. For example, yesterday I smoked a joint of some brown, not so tasty stuff. I felt a bit out of it, somewhat uncomfortable and annoyed. Today, I smoked some greener, fresher stuff, and felt invigorated, inspired, everything pot should do. This could be differences in the plant, but it could have something to do with the fact that yesterday I was hanging out with a shiesty local swindler and today I was on a mountain with the sun shining on me and beautiful views of the countryside all around.

In any case, I got inspired enough to do some mountain top yoga. It was interesting, the spot I was, on top of a huge slab of uneven rock, left standing poses the only option, so I had to change around my routine a bit. The other good thing about yoga at 14,000 feet is that you have no choice to pay attention to your breath.

I also realized that over the years, I´ve gotten well acquainted with various idiosyncrasies of my body. That tendon that does the poppy thing when I move my leg a certain way, that shoulder muscle that reminds me of its existence when I have pressure on my arm at a certain angle. I wouldn´t say we´re friends at this point, but at least we´re on speaking terms. Lots to look forward to, right?

Engañado

I met Javier yesterday, he came right up to me on the street and struck up a conversation. His English was extremely broken but that didn´t hinder him in the least in speaking a mile a minute. It took me about 45 minutes of me speaking in spanish before he gave it up and spoke in spanish himself. I didn't have anything important to do, so I hung out with him for a few hours, good spanish practice and got to see some parts of the city I wouldn´t have otherwise. It was obvious that he saw some dollar signs in my 6 foot choco and backpack wearing figure, so I tried (quite unsuccessfully) to make it clear that there was no money to be made from me, but I´d still be happy to hang out and maybe go on a hike. He tried to sell me everything from pot to guided tours, enticing me with his two amigas that he just happened to have a date with--this magically turned to 3 ladies when we saw my friend Ronney later on. I paid for a lunch on the promise that he would by dinner (part of the culture, right?), and lent him 5 soles for something else. It should be apparent that I didn't get the best vibe from him, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, he seemed like a nice guy, and I don´t like to prejudge people; he kept insisting that we were just friends, that was all. Later on, back at the couchsurfing crashpad, he suggested we (meaning me) buy some beer. I really had no craving to drink at that point so I told him he could buy it himself, or use the money he owed me already. Javier did not like this idea at all. After unsuccessful pleading in his barely intelligible english, he grabbed the 2 empty bottles left in a huff. He returned 5 minutes later asking for money again, though the price of beer had magically gone down. Still getting no luck, he disappeared again, this time for good. With our 2 bottles. This may not seem like a big deal at first, but at least here in Huaraz, it is nearly impossible to buy beer without returning the same number of empty bottles. There is a fabled store somewhere where you can just put down a deposit on the bottle, which is quite expensive, about half the price of the beer. But at all the corner shops, anywhere remotely near where I´m staying, they just won´t sell without getting a bottle.

I fumed for a long time, trying to quench my righteous indignation with the thought that this is just a part of my white privilege. In a world where some people can work for a month or two then travel for 8 months or a year through countries where a third of the population lives on less than $2 a day, this sort of parasitic relationship is bound to develop . This point was driven home when I blithely told Javier that I had 6 weeks left in Peru, no time at all. He replied that Peruvians would love to have a 6 week holiday. So really, I should be angry at the system, not at this pinche weon. But really, stealing our empties? That´s fucking low.

I did have a blast in Lima. Met some great people, and dropped in on some great classes at La Tarumba (the circus school that has been running in lima for over 25 years). But my main reason for being there, to scope out the city and school for potentially living there for a year or so and training at La Tarumba, turned out to be a dead end. They have limited space and recources, and so really aren´t flexible for that sort of thing. Besides taking evening classes for hipsters and hobiests, he only option would be to wait till 2011 and apply to the 3 year professional program.

So, I escaped from the monstrous city and headed for Huaraz, a small city on the edge of the Cordillera Blanca, an incredible mountain range which has Peru´s highest mountain, Huascarán, and Alpamayo, which, acording to UNESCO, is the most beautiful mountain in the world.

I just got back from my first adventure, climbing at Hatun Machay. At 13,700 feet, its the highest sport climbing in the world, in a place aptly named "Bosque de Piedras" (Forest of Rocks). Having been sport climbing only once before, I was quite bad, and had a few moments of "shit this is scary i dont want to fall what the hell am i doing here?". But by the 3rd day I was significantly better than the first, did my first (and second) lead climb, and was no longer questioning why I was there.

So now I´m back in Huaraz for a couple days. I´m staying with Victor Hugo, a local mountain guide that I found on couchsurfing. He has a whole seperate apartment for couchsurfers, where I just ran into trekking guide I had met in Guatemala. Though it lacks a kitchen and a hot shower (and we´re not just talking cold shower, at 10,000 feet this is a glacial runnoff shower), its a great place to crash and meet people. And to prepare for the next adventure, a trek up and accross a glacier, among some mountain lakes, preparing the body for the altitude and the climbing of peaks that will come later.

Its been a long time since I´ve written anything here, funny how settling in one place (Cochabamba) makes things seem more banal and less worth writing about. Getting stoned and watching The Yellow Submarine seems much more exciting just because it happened in a brand new city, La Paz. Which was an amazing city, I will really have to come back and get to know it better than I did staying in a grigo punk rock crash pad apartment for 3 nights and wandering around the city a bit.

Never was able to get my visa extended without traveling great distances and paying large sums of money, which doesnt seem worth it right now. It worked out though, after 3 months I was ready to leave, hard as it was. I loved the work I was doing; the more I got to know the kids I was working with the more I liked them. I had made some good friends, and really liked the city itself. I even met lovely lady (a Smith college graduate by coincidence) in my last week there, who I would have loved to get to know better (and hopefully will some day). But I had realized something during these 6 months of traveling: I really love circus; acro and juggling especially, and that means that I need to be somewhere where there are people far better than me to learn from. Cochabamba is not that place.


Luckily, in Cochabamba I had met Carlos, a teacher and performer from La Tarumba in Lima. La Tarumba is a circus school with over 25 years of experience, and judging by photos, videos, and seeing Carlos´stunning corde lisse act and taking his trapeze workshop, very high quality. And, get this: their 3 year professional program is free. Unheard of! I don´t know if i´m ready to live in Lima for 3 years, and besides, they're next class doesnt start until 2011. So i´m hoping i´ll be able to work something out to do a residency or something, for maybe a year. Not sure how flexible they are yet. But I´m pretty excited about La Tarumba.


So that´s why, after a few days in La Paz, I blew straight past the "can´t miss" tourist spots at Lago Titicaca, Cuzco, Machu Pichu, and came straight to Lima. I can always go back. I´m going to stay here in Lima for about a month to get to know the city and the school, spend another few weeks hiking the Cordillera Blanca, then head back to the states. I'll visit as many of y'all as I can in a couple months, replenish the bank account, then see about coming back to South America...

Inca Road

I´m reading Rob Gifford´s China Road: A Journey into the Future of a Rising Power. I expected a dry account of China´s economic and political policies, but its actually a fascinating and engaging account of a 3000 mile journey across Route 312, China´s "mother road." The author talks to everyone he can, taxi drivers, farmers, engineering students, immigrants, Taoist monks, and communist party members. From all these anecdotes, put into the context of thousands of years of history and culture, you get a great feel for the Chinese psyche.

In Lima, i´m meeting tons of people through couchsurfing.org. Right now i´m staying in a spare bedroom of a family that I would otherwise probably never exchange words with. Besides other travelers, young liberal activist types and circus folks, the people I would normally hang out with, I´m meeting upper middle class families, military types, adventure sport guides, etc. Reading China Road makes me realize what an opportunity this is to get a feel for the Peruvian outlook on their country. Unfortunately, I don´t the encyclopedic knowledge of Latin America that Gifford has of China, so its harder to put things in context and ask the right questions. I never was much interested in history in school, and hardly learned a thing about Latin America. Maybe because the United States is so stable, history never seemed so important. The political situation in South America, in contrast, seems much more raw and young. Peru is on its 5th constitution since 1900, and there are clamors for a new one; Bolivia´s current constitution is 5 months old. And though they´re all technically democracies, its a lot less "civilized" than the US. In the last couple weeks, demonstrations protesting recource extraction in the amazon left 50 dead (23 of them police officers), but did succeed in repealing 2 contraversial laws. It seems much more important to have an understanding of history to be able to sort it all out. Unfortunately, just as I start to learn a bit of the history of the country i'm in, I then move to a new country and have to start from scratch. Of course that is also what is fascinating about South America: there are so many countries side by side, sharing (to a greater or lesser extent) a cultural history, but with so many different models for governance and development. My reading list is huge, the availability of books in English is one thing i´m really looking forward to when I come back to the states. (Of course I should be reading more in Spanish, but its so slow right now i´m sticking with newspapers, novels, and other easy reading.) So much to learn!

Immigration Reform and Donkey Milk

I had a glass of donkey milk the other day. Fresh. Really fresh. Straight from the udder into my glass. It didn't taste all that good, but it is supposed to be an elixir of youth.  

Cochabamba is treating me pretty well, and I´m slowly settling in. I bought a bike the other day. I´m moving into a new place tomorrow, a boarding house is the best way to describe it, its like a hostal but geared to long term (by the month) visitors. Most of the folks there (about 7) are volunteer workers from Europe. I have basically my own studio apartment, private kitchen and bathroom, for $100 a month.

I´m working with 2 NGOs, teaching circus arts classes and putting together circus shows with kids. Performing Life works with kids who live or work on the street. Educar es Fiesta works with kids from various backgrounds, teaching gymnastics, music, theater, and circus with a philosophy of nonviolence and the promotion of "buen trata," good treatment. Its lots of fun, fulfilling, and keeping me quite busy.  

The only problem is that I´m here on a 90 day tourist visa. Bolivia and the US have terrible relations, and one of the consequences is that its difficult and expensive for estadounidences to visit and stay. Personally, i think that putting obstacles in the way people coming to visit, study, and work with local NGOs is not the way to promote mutual understanding and better relations between countries. Of course, given how hard it is for Bolivians to even set foot on American soil, I can´t claim any injustice. I do have a couple avenues to pursue. The brother of the director of Educar es Fiesta is the director of the immigration office here in Cochabamba. Also, since my predicament has become a topic of discussion in the group, I´ve received 2 marriage proposals. I think things will work out one way or another.

Welcome to Bolivia

After a stop for a couple days in Potosí, I made my way to Cochabamba, where I plan to stay for at least a couple months. I had been doing research ahead of time to find NGOs to volunteer with, and in my first couple days I met up with 2 groups. Performing Life is a small and relatively young organization that teaches circus arts to street kids, giving them an opportunity to make money as well as express themselves artistically. They have recently expanded with music classes and a video and documentary film making project. Infante Bolivia is a well established group (21 years) that works for the "promoción, defensa y restitución de los Derechos Humanos de niños, niñas, adolescentes y mujeres" (I think even non Spanish speakers can understand that. Derechos=rights.)

I toured Infante´s several projects to see where I might be able to help. The kids from the Casa de La Adolescente were had a theater workshop that day with an other organization, Educar es Fiesta, so I tagged along to check it out.

Turned out that the folks at Educar es Fiesta had a new project called Tapeque, a social and educational circus. I went over to check it out and arrived just in time to help raise the beautiful new circus tent off the ground. I spent most of the rest of the week with them, setting up the stage, lighting, seats, etc., for their inaugural show.

The show turned out to be amazing (A welcome contrast to the terrible circus show I had seen in Potosí), with a talented group of kids from Educar es Fiesta and a handful of international artists, among them Carlos from Peru, who did a stunning aerial rope act. It was also rich with theater and dance. I was able to take a great 2 day trapeze workshop with Carlos, who works at Tarumba, a social as well as professional circus school in Lima Peru. Looks like I´ve got another stop in my itinerary.

On Saturday I did a circus arts and games workshop with one of Infante´s "comités," groups of kids that get together every Saturday to learn skills to be "transformative agents of their social environment through their educational work with parents, teachers and leaders of their communities, promoting a culture of respect for children." They´ve got me scheduled each Saturday for the next 2 months.

The other night I was in the central plaza, and joined a group crowded around a speaker. The young, charismatic speaker was going through a history of civilization through the colonization of the Americas. It was intelligent, well reasoned, and interesting, the kind of thing you read about in books but is always a thing of some more ideological past or other world.

This morning, realizing that I might end up staying her longer than I had originally planned, I tried out juggling at a streetlight, something that seems to be a standard way to make money throughout latin america. In two and a half hours, I made about enough to live on for 2 days (if i´m frugal).

In other words, Cochabamba seems like a good place to be.

Peso for your thoughts

I went to the Casa de la Moneda de Bolivia museum in Potosí today. The mint was built in 1757 by the Spanish to mint silver coins (mined locally) that were shipped to europe to be used as Spanish currency. After Bolivian independence in 1825, the mint was used to make Bolivian currency until 1933. The building is impressive in scale and style, and well restored as a museum.

Our tour guide told us about the transformation from mule power (those old machines were amazing) to steam power. The new steam machinery were imported from Philadelphia. Years later, when the mint made the transition to electricity, new machines were imported from Princeton, NJ.

I must admit that I felt some pride that my country had been at the cutting edge of technology and innovation during the industrial revolution, exporting its products all over the world because they were the highest quality available. Unfortunately, it hasn´t lasted. I´ve been reading Thomas Freidman´s Hot, Flat, and Crowded, in which he argues that The United States needs to become the world leader in developing new green technologies to increase efficiency and produce clean energy. Under a Bush administration, this proposal was laughable. We´ve pretty much been doing the oposite for the las 30 years. But now we have a new president. Obama is pushing hard his budget plan, and, even in the face of opposition from congress, has been unyeilding in his energy proposals, allocating funds for research and experimentation for clean and renewable energy. It sounds like he´s really taking a stand to uphold his campaign promises.

Do we finally have a leader we can be proud of? It would certainly be a first for me. (The first 2 elections I was of voting age elected Bush and Bush again.) I´ve been holding my breath, releived and proud that he was elected, but not ready to celebrate yet. Time will tell, but i´m feeling more hopeful than ever.

Farewell to Patagonia

I made my farewell to Patagonia (and Chile) with a four day trek in Parque Nacional Volcán Villarica. The first day slid through a open lovely green forest, full of native bamboo and tree species, and ended at a small lake. The next day the trail climbed above the tree line, and stayed there for that entire day and most of the next. It cossed a barren rocky landscape of sand, lava flows, crossing an old (inactive) crater, and with views of the surrounding volcanoes. The fourth day I attemped a trail that went straight up the side of Volcan Villarica, to the edge of the glacier. I got up before dawn (I was already on a very early schedule, camping alone), to see the sunrise on the volcano. Unfortunately, after 3 days of perfect weather, that day turned that morning to windy, rainty, and foggy. There was no view of the surrounding mountains, and the wind pushed me back down the trail as I made my ascent. I did make it to the edge of the glacier, though without the view of the peak I had hoped for. still, the landscape was amazing, glacial streams cutting a valley through grey volcanic rock and ash. Anyway, check out the photos.

I was now headed to Bolivia, where I had been in contact with a couple NGOs in Cochabamba that I was planning to work with. I had heard about a contact Improv festival outside of Cordoba, Argentina, (pretty much on the way) that I decided to check out. After the trek, I got back to the town of Pucón, and took a night bus to Santiago de Chile. Then another bus across the border to Mendoza, Argentina, and another night bus to Cordoba. After another local bus ride, I made it to the festival.

It was a pretty cool place. Good people, great contact jams in the evenings and classes in the day in yoga, capoera, qi gong, etc., etc. My heart wasnt in it though. I was road weary, and could only think of the journey ahead and what I would find in Bolivia. I was eager to get to Cochabamba, where I would stay for a stretch of time, get to know people, and have a purpose. Lounging at a hippy festival wasn´t doing it for me.

So after two days of R&R I got back on the road, this time trying out my luck with my thumb. Luck was not mine this time around. After a day and a half of hitching, I had made it about 90 miles closer to my destination (still over a thoushand miles away.) I gave up the hitching, as it became apparent that the farther north I made it, the thinner the traffic as the road headed into the vast desert. I managed to flag down a long distance bus (usually they dont stop except at a couple larger towns), and 18 hours of bus later, I was at the border.

WWOOFing

Kathryn took off to Santiago to catch her flight, an I, feeling a little lost, decided do do WWOOF. (WWOOF is a worldwide network of organic farms, where volunteers trade labor for food and acomodation, no money is exchanged.) My first WWOOF experience was at a small outfit east of Puerto Montt, where I did some construction work on a new building, harvested lettuce and other vegetables, and worked on new beds. The volunteers were a mix of french and estadounidenses (a word for "Americans" that recognizes the fact that there are 35 countries in America). Since the french (being french) didnt all speak the best english, spanish was the common language, which was great practice. By the end of a week however, the volunteers that I liked the best were leaving and the work wasnt intersting enough to keep me around. I headed north for a stop off in Valdivia (where I am right now), and plan to continue on to Temuco, then to another WWOOF farm on the coast.

Just like home!

Kathryn´s flight arrived at SCL at the lovely hour of 3:20 am. I took the last bus out to the airport and killed time until her arrival, then we killed some more time until the first bus back to the city at 6:30. Luckily we had an amazingly gracious host, who I had lined up through couchsurfing.org, who invited us in, fed us breakfast, and told us to make ourselves at home while he went to work. we thanked him, and in no time were sacked out on the floor. We spent the next few days checking out the city and going out to a barbecue with our host, Marcelo, before catching a night bus south into the heart of Patagonia.

Our first stop (after a night in the unremarkable town of Osorno) was Volcan Puyahe, due east and almost on the Argentine border. We hiked up from the road to the tree line with 5 days of food, but were put off by the weather and returned on the third day without reaching the summit or the hot springs on the other side of the peak. A damn shame, but at least we did have the mountain refujio, a simple hut with bunk beds and a wood stove, and the company of a dirverse crowd of trekkers and geologists from all over the world, to wait out the rain.

We then hopped over to Argentina to San Carlos de Bariloche and south to El Bolsón. Both towns looked interesting and I imagine there´s a lot more below the touristy, pricy surface, but we didnt stay long enough to find it. So we turned around and headed back to Chile, further south to the island of Chiloé. Chiloé is a rural, typical of the patagonian coast.

We arrived in Ancúd, a sleepy town, and were asked if we needed a room as we left the bus station by a young couple. Usually I avoid touts like the plague, but they were so... bumbling, as kathryn put it, and friendly (and the price was right) that we checked out there hospidaje. It turned out to be their house, with a couple spare rooms upstairs and room in the backyard for camping, sharing their bathroom and kitchen. We then walked down to the plaza and arrived just in time to catch the end of a circus festival. I got to play around on a trapeze and fabric for about half an hour before they took it down to set up for the show. The show was really fun hosted by some wonderful clowns and featuring (among others) an act from the set design workshop, a beautiful doubles fabric act, and the finale, juggling clubs dangling on strings (by pushing them and catching them when they swing back, lots of sweet tricks and up to 7 clubs), was great.

Kathryn and I broke up already. Actually it wasn´t so much of a breakup as a not getting back together after 2 months apart with little communication. The spark just wasn't there from the start, so we´ve been traveling as friends. She decided to go back to Guatemala in a couple weeks, which made me sad. Its great having her as a friend and travel companion, and I would be happy to continue traveling together and see if the romantic side of things (re)develops. But she has important ongoing work with the NGO she works for (Guatemala Solidarity Project) that keeps here mind partly in Guatemala. I´m looking into WWOOFing for a bit here in the south, before heading back north to Santiago and then on to Bolivia and Peru. I´m also starting to miss things in the old Pacific Northwest, so I´m starting to think of my life when I get back.

Tango in Plaza Bellavista

I was sitting on a bench, reading the novel House of Spirits by Isabel Allende. The vivid descriptions of post WWI Chile gave life to the dry political and economic history I had been reading, and I was completely immersed. My revere was broken as the sound of accordion and strings, the unmistakable sound of the tango, burst from from a tinny boom box a few feet away. I looked up to see a stunningly gorgeous couple begin to dance.

I had started my day with my spirits low. After a burst of activity and meeting people when I first got to Valpo, that momentum has been lagging. I often feel like an outsider and the place where i´m staying, in large part because so often I can´t understand what people are saying, especially when its a big group of old friend talking fast and joking around. Though I keep hearing of interesting social projects, I have not yet find something to get involved in, so I end up with more free time that I would like. On top of that, I dearly miss my baby, who will be arriving in Santiago very soon, but never soon enough.

So as I watched dance after incredibly beautiful dance and happily threw few coins into the old derby they passed around, I was grateful for a reminder of why I travel.

Valparaiso

I´ve been back and forth to Santiago a couple of times now, but most of my time has been in Valparaiso, or Valpo.  Supposedly Chile´s cultural capitol, Valpo is jam packed with artists.  There are murals everywhere, street theater all over the place, and jugglers at every stoplight.
I´ve been hangoing out a lot at Casa TIAO, an "okupa" or squat.  Its been going on for about 2 years now, has water, electricity, and a pretty public image, they have shows there all the time that are widely advertised.  they have huge ceilings, rigging for 4 different aerial aparatus at once, space to juggle, etc etc. its great, someone will be randomly walking through the living room, jump up to the trapeze and bust out some moves, then hop down and continue ontheir way.  in some ways its amazing how similar it is to scenes in portland, the bay, etc; the partially shaved heads, the circo-punk style, but in other ways very latin amreican.  it is more diverse than scenes i´ve seen in the states.  the jugglers here are pretty amazing.  its a way to make
money, juggling at stoplights, so they learn it early and get good fast.

Threre was just an independent theater festival, mix of street theater and independent venues (like the okupa and a converted factory among others), i ended up with a bit part on one of the street peices which was really fun.  I got pulled into one of the shows, and played a crazy doctor in El Mimo Tuga´s street show.  

I´m staying on the other side of town, in Taller El Litre, a metal fabrication shop and hangout of traveler/circus types.  Its run by a crazy guy called Tio Willy and his wife.  I´m living in a theater set peice, halfway up a hill.  Its on a strip about 12 feet wide, with a 15 foot retaining wall above and another below.  Did I mention Valpo has a lot of hills?  Really steep ones too.  There´s about a dozen "ascensor"s, or elevators, built at the turn of the century (starting in the 1800s that is) that take you up the side of a hill on railroad tarcks.

Now, i'm off to the okupa to practice some acro and aerials with folks I've met here.

Hitchiking in Chile

I've been in Valparaiso for about a week.  I dedided to head in to Santiago (1 1/2 hours away) to see a couple of shows, part of a huge international theater festival going on the month of January.  I was with a new friend, Jackie, a contortionist from Portland, and her friend Morgan.  It didnt take long for a car to pull over and give us a ride into the city.  The driver, a very nice clean cut man about 30, turned out to be a prison guard returning from work.  We kept a good converstaion going and when we got to the city he invited us to join him for lunch.  We stopped at his house for a drink, then drove around the corner to the Police Officer's Social Club.  In the restaurant, we had to rearange our seating arrangements so that those of us with sandals (not allowed in the restaurant) would not be visable to those entering.   After our lunch, our guide continued to drive us around the city, to the museum, to the internet cafe, to the park.  Finally he got tired (he had worked the night shift the night before) and dropped us off and went home.

Our return trip was not as unexpected, but quite friendly.  After being passed by a funeral procession (the hearse driver gave us a huge goofy grin and hand signals something like "normally i´d pick you up, but i got this guy in the back..."), we got a ride in a vegetable truck, straight to the market in downton Valpo.

Santiago de Chile

I arrived in SCL at 5:30 AM after nearly 24 hours of traveling. Aside from customs finding my trail mix (and having to sign a total of 5 statements acknowledging my failure to declare my dried fruit, authorizing its seizure and destuction, and agreeing that i´m damn lucky that they didnt slap my ass in jail) my entrance to Chile was smooth. I made my way to Hostal Don Santiago, my new home for 5 days. I found this place on couchsurfing.com; Pato, the manager of the hostal invited me to stay there free of chage.

I passed out for about 7 hours, and got up in time for the new years eve dinner hosted by Pato and Diego, an employee at the hostal. Then we went out to watch the fireworks and celebrate in the street with thousands of chileans. I almost went to be after that, but instead I ended up at a bar with some germans, drinking with Pato back at the hostal, then catching a cab to a club at around 4, dancing for a couple hours, and finally returning to the hostal to pass out.

I spent the next couple days recovering. Finally, I feel like myself again. I bought new juggling clubs here, after leaving my old ones at my friend´s place in Oakland. They´re pretty sweet, and cheap too, about 9 bucks each.

I´m sticking around for juggle club tomorrow, then on to Valparaiso on monday.