The Final Countdown

Howdy all, 

It's our last weekend here in Urubamba, and we'll be shipping off for the states on Wednesday afternoon. Before I get back to the land of free, I have a lot left to accomplish and even more to reflect on. Excuse me for getting sentimental, but it's going to be a bummer to leave the comfort of Dulia and Allison's family that I've grown to love and contribute to.  I don't know if it was the time Dave and I stayed up late playing cards with Dulia's 7 year-old daughter or the time I went to outdoor mass with my animated uncle Andres, but I can confidently say that I've done my best to give back to the family that has housed me for the past 8 weeks.

I was looking through David Chou's (fellow Dukie and co-teacher) photos, and I couldn't help but pull out a few memorable moments from my trip to recount for my family, friends, followers, and covert creepers.

So here's to the DukeEngage program in Peru and the university's commitment to giving students the opportunity to really get out of the Durham bubble and explore what's out there.  Whenever I think about getting out of my comfort zone I always revert to a quote by the bro king and judicial animal of the early 20th century, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.  He once said, "Once the mind has been stretched by a new idea, it will never return to its original size." So here's to stretching out the dome while eating some arroz con pollo along the way.

I guess I’ll just ramble on about these photos I picked out because it’s the most logical way to sum up my experience without bringing all of y’all to La Escuela 711 or El Instituto de Lasalle in Urubamba.  Here goes!

A picture of La Plaza de Armas in Cusco on the first night of our trip.  Alas, say goodbye to the city of Inca Kola.

We started our trip out in Cusco, capital of the Incan empire, for a couple of days, getting to know the city by means of exploring its incredible ruins, delicious food, and ridiculous night life.  Never before have I been given coupons for free drinks at a bar just because I was a gringo. Let’s call it Andean Affirmative Action.

This one goes out to Mike Shagi. I always imagined this is where the name originated.

Moving on, after our short time in Cusco, the 11 kids living in Urubamba headed out into the Sacred Valley to meet our host families, while the 9 living in Cusco got accustomed to the Peruvian city life. 

The first thing that struck me about Urubamba was the awe-inspiring presence of the mountains in every directions and the clarity of the skies at night. Here are some pictures of my hometown for a couple months!

View from a peak at sunset.

Street view in Uru.

Full moon in the Sacred Valley.

Night sky over our small town. Comparable to the sky in Eleuthera at the Island School.

I fell in love with the lifestyle in Urubamba quickly, largely due to my incredible host family.  Dave Balthazar, a junior at Duke, and I lived in a house on La Calle Ferrocarril with our mom Dulia and her 7 year old daughter, Allison.

My roommate Dave, the dog whisperer.

I got down to business right away teaching English at La Escuela 711 and working at an organic farm on the river in Urubamba. Here’s a picture of the kids playing at recess and next, a picture of some tomato plants in our greenhouse.

A view of our school from the balcony.

Rows on rows of tomatoes.

Our work schedule, which consisted of 9 hours of teaching a week at the school, 8 hours of work on the farm, one morning a week selling our produce in the market, and countless nights in the office planning out lessons in order to minimize the chance of getting playdough thrown at me in class!

Here are a couple shots of breaks from work with our farm supervisor, Ameriko! The first one is a picture of us messing around with the monkey at the Urubamba circus, and the second is a picture of my cleaning up some fish at the trout farm in Pumawanca.

Ameriko shaking hands with the monkey.

Filleting some fresh trout.

We had a few amazing distractions from the daily grind in the form of ruins tours, hikes, and religious festivals.  First up, we had our hike to the Chicon Glacier, a snow capped peak over 16,000 feet above sea level.

Charging through a jungle microclima in Chicon.

Our first view of snow.

 

We made camp and continued to shiver our assses off until sunrise in the 20 degree weather. Glad that night’s behind us!

Making friends.

Next up, we had the festival de Torrechayoc, a religious festival in Urubamba, in which many of our host relatives danced in traditional comstumes.  That night, the 30-person dance group came back to Dulia’s house to sing, dance, and drink until 4 in the morning. It got real weird, real quick, but nevertheless, a great time.

After Torrechayoc, the next big adventure was to Machu Picchu.  I had the opportunity to do a three day biking and hiking trip to the Incan city with my mom and sister! They came all the way from the 203 to join me in Peru for a week. And what it week it was.  While I was on the trip with my mom and sister, a bunch of the Duke kids did the famous Salkantay Trail to Machu Picchu.  The trail is a grueling 5 day trek through the hilliest sections of the Cusco region. Here’s a picture of a glacier on their way.

Machu Picchu with Huayna Picchu in the background.

Machu Picchu was truly epic, and I returned home to Urubamba with a renewed hop in my step knowing that I trounced on the same turf as my imaginary Incan friend, Papa Llama, 500 years before.

After Machu Picchu, we travelled to Cusco for the Inti Raymi festival, the second biggest festival in South America held every year on the Winter solstice.

Casual group of soldiers with rifles.

Bands of fans filling up the stands at Saqsaywaman.

Hoisting up the chief.

Shot from afar.

In the end, it’s safe to say that this trip has been incredible for me because of the boondoggles I’ve embarked on and the relationships I’ve made with my fellow Duke students and our community partners.  Thanks again to Duke University for giving me the chance to live in South America for the summer on their dime!

That being said, I’ve missed some of the benefits of being home in Wilton for the summer, and it should be an awesome six weeks with family and friends in Connecticut. Before I sign off and let my loyal audience return to their business, I think I’ll rattle off what I’ve missed most and what I will most certainly indulge in upon returning to the country that I’ve learned to love more with separation from it.

-My dog

-Caroline, my youngest sister

-Old Glory, the jeep that has been there for the dumbest of adventures

-Cold drinks, one thing America’s got on the Sacred Valley is the presence of the refridgerator

-The Y, can’t wait to work out with my friends again after my 8 week stint at Luis’ Gym here in Urubamba

-Cranberry Park, I’m sure my frolf game has declined, but it obviously can’t get worse than Maher’s

-Hayes’ basement, not sure if it beats sitting on the Plaza getting rowdy with Peruvian Policeman off of horrible beer, but it’s close.

-Washers, the best game to hit my backyard since the fasjch reenacted childhood games of lawn darts by launching long spears at my obnoxious brother. Can’t wait to engage in a friendly game of doubles with the crew

-Caddying, it’s time to put the glorified vacation to rest and get my ass on the payroll again at Rolling Hills.  I’m psyched to rot in the caddy shack with men of all walks of life waiting for the nod from Captain Feruzzi.

So that’s a wrap on my Peruvian adventure.  As I journey thousands of miles back home, the people and places that have made this trip so special will remain with me upstairs in the same head that once decided it was a good idea to bike into my pool to see if I could ride on water. Turns out Jesus kept the power to himself.  As I digress, take care of yourselves and have a happy and healthy rest of the summer!

Cheers,

Chris

Machu Picchu at Last

Reunited at last

It's been a while since I've posted, but do to my brother's insistence on keeping up to date with my blog for retrospective purposes in the future and my excitement to share my journeys with the world wide web of creepers, I'm back.

It was an unforgettable week here in Peru for many reasons, including my first crack at chocolate making and ziplining (unrelated, but both gnarly), but above all, it was great to share my life and my work down here with my Mom and my sister, Meaghan.

Before the elder Kach women arrived (and by elder i just mean the older two of three; i think that whole "i'm 34" game still seems to be working out for you), I didn't have the slightest idea how we would fill our time outside of our planned three-day hike and trek to Machu Picchu.  Luckily, however, the Incans made enough groovy ruins for us to fill a hectic, yet unbelievable six days.

On Wednesday, I met my Mom and sister in Cusco and enjoyed a hot cup of Coca tea with them in order to help them adjust better to the altitude.  After they were all settled in and we met up with some Duke kids for coffee, my mom, sister, and I decided to tour the ruins in Cusco.  First, we went to Saqsaywaman, a massive outdoor sun temple considered to be the second most impressive Incan ruin to Machu Picchu.  We went through some caves, much to the dismay of my frantic mother, but my snarky sister pushed her through to the daylight on the other side.  Below are some pictures from our afternoon adventure!

Karen and I at Puka Pukara!

Megsie and I killin' it on top of the Saqsaywaman ruins.

Sliding down the natural rock slides at Saqsaywaman. On the left, we can see the younger sister struggling like it's her job.

On Wednesday night, we took a van packed with men, women, and children of the Sacred Valley back to Urubamba.  Karen and Meaghan were loving the clarity of the night sky, comparing it to the sparkling brilliance of the hallway bathroom mirror after my mom enslaves  Mr. Kach to clean on Saturday mornings. 

Amaru Valle Hotel in the morning sun- The humble abode of the Kach ladies for a couple nights.

I walked them back to their hotel in Urubamba, and withing five minutes, Meaghan resembled a grizzly during winter, face down and snoring like a yetti.  My mom, however, was a big time trooper and came back to my home stay house with me to meet my family and give gifts of gratitude to Dulia and Allison. It was great to see my host mom meet my real mom (so i think? Jim still tells me I'm adopted), and the night ended with arts and crafts time with Allison and her new toys.

On Thursday morning, I brought Mom and Meg to my school to meet all of my students. They were jumping up and down yelling at them with smiles in Spanish, naturally leading to my mom's classic uncomfortable response of "bueno?!"

We then walked over to the organic farm I work out, and Ameriko brought them on a tour of all the greenhouses and animals. After a solid lunch at Dulia's place, we went to Moray and the Salineras with Dulia and Allison. My mom made great friends with my 7 year-old host sister, and they booked it all around the ruins while the rest of us watched in amusement. Below's a group shot.

From left to right: the Karenator, yours truly, Allison, and Dulia. Scholars contend Meg was off bowing down to some Incan sun god, drumming on a puma skull.

I stayed the night with Mom and Meg in the hostal on Thursday, woke up to a breakfast of eggs and fruit, then ventured off to the Pisac ruins and market.  My mom stocked up on decorative plates and bowls with my acquired Spanish accent to barter like a champ. Fear not Kachadoorian party-goers, the onion dip will still be there, only in a hipster bowl that requires listening to a verbose story from the mamabear.

The Kach ladies at Pisac.

We got into Cusco on Friday night and enjoyed an awesome dinner on the Plaza de Armas. We crashed early and got ready for our trip to Machu Picchu!

On Saturday morning, our guide, Wilian, picked us up at our hotel at 615am and brought us over to the adventure agency's office to get us all set for our trip.  After getting sized up for mountain bikes and picking out some t-shirts, we hopped in the car and began the three hour trip past Ollantaytambo to Abra Malaga, a 4530meter peak. From there, we got on our bikes and began the fast-paced decent along a winding path for a few hours to Santa Maria. Check the road below.

Felt like Lance zooming through the Andean hills.

After we got to Santa Maria on our bikes, we high-tailed it in a van from Santa Maria to Santa Teresa, winding high above the Locomayo (translated to Crazy River from Quechua). We got to our hostal for the night to be pleasantly surprised by the simple elegance that was the EcoQuechua retreat.

Our eco-focused hostal in the woods of Santa Teresa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday morning was lahhhhhhgit. Our guide, Wilian, brought us to Cola de Mono, a zip lining agency tucked into the woods in Santa Teresa around 8am.  I wasn't nervous for some reason, probably because I didn't realize how high or how far I'd be zooming above a ravine in the upcoming hour.  After a pretty slapdick "safety" session, we hiked up to the launch point of the first of six cables.  I edged toward the back of the group to avoid going first after looking down on what seemed like a pretty quick death. Luckily, some fox from Argentina with metaphoric "huevos" bigger than mine hopped on the cable and took off at over 80 kmh over the river, giving me the confidence to step up and go second. To all you who say second is the first to lose, kindly silence yourself.  Below are some pictures of the exhilarating zip line experience.

Locking in my harness. Not pictured for good reasons: Epic harness wedgie.

Anddddd I'm off!

Megsie did great on the zip line as well, and at one point, we actually passed each other over a couple hundred meters off the ground zipping along on different cables. Karen assumed the role of camera lady for the morning, and for good reason: she was "a little out of her comfort zone" after climbing a narrow stair case later in the afternoon.


We got trekking around 11am for Aguas Calientes, inching closer and closer to Machu Picchu with every step.

Sibling shot journeying on down the road.

At our lunch spot, a bunch of hammocks set up to comfort lazy fools like me.

Andddddd I'm spent. Meg probably taking pleasure in giving me a wet willy while I sleep on the side of the trail just shy of Aguas Calientes.

 We got to Aguas Calientes, the small town at the foot of Machu Picchu at about 4pm on Sunday afternoon, just in time for a hot shower, relaxing dinner, and a father's day shoutout on the hostal computer to the only, the only Mr. Kach.

While my mom and sister took the amateur route early Monday morning by taking the 25 minute bus up to Machu Picchu, I hopped out of bed at 430am and strapped on the hiking boots to begin my final push on foot up to the park entrance. 1900 steps later, adorned in my fleece, gloves, and headlamp, and arrived at the entrance to one of the 7 wonders of the world. From my calculations, since I've already hit Quarry Head and Cranberry Park, I've only got four more wonders!

The first 400 people at the park entrance in the morning get a stamp on their ticket to climb Huayna Picchu, the picture-esque peak in the background of every cliche photo of the Incan ruin.  I was probably in the first 100 people up there and chose to get my entrance stamp to Huayna Picchu at 10am.

After milling around in line for a while, I saw my mom and sister get off the bus with a rollicking group of tourists from all over the world including some shoeless hippies from Brazil and eldery German women with trekking poles to climb the four stairs to the snack bar.


We began our two-hour tour of the ruin with a group of about 20. Here are some shots from the early morning.

Said best by Miss Gifford herself- goin' rogue.

Sorry for taking a personal break from the tour, Mom.

Instead of taking my stamp to climb Huayna Pichu at 10am, we chose to climb as Machu Picchu Mountain as a family.  The latter is a newly opened peak and the highest point in Machu Picchu Park.  It's a road less traveled due to its comparative difficulty to Huayna Picchu and recent opening.

We left the ruins park around 930am to begin our hike up to Machu Picchu Mtn., but first, Megs signed the guest book at the foot of the peak full of names of tourists from all over the world.

The hike took a little over an hour, and the view kept getting better and better as we climbed higher and higher over the ruins.  Here are some cool shots with Ma. Pi. in the background!

Gotta photoshop the other three hooligans into this family gem.

Machu Picchu with the backdrop of Huayna Picchu.

Psyched to be here. Karen hadn't seen enthusiasm like this since I crushed first grade tee-ball.

It was truly an amazing day at Machu Picchu, and although I'm not as well traveled (or pretentious) as Meaghan or my mom, I think I can die happy after seeing this place.  We headed back down to Aguas Calientes for a quick meal then hopped on the 3 and a half hour train to Cusco for the night.

Mom and Meg headed out yesterday, but before they shipped outta South America, we went to the chocolate museum of Cusco. Gladys, our Peruvian chocolate workshop leader, led us through the entire production process from picking the cacao bean to munching on homemade truffles in a couple hours.  Here are some pictures of the squad!

Your nothing without an apron according to Gladys.

Pouring our dark chocolate into molds.

Unfortunately, my mom and sister headed back to the states, respectively back to Camp Woodstock and Mercer, but I'm so happy to have shared my experiences down here with them.

We got a couple more weeks down here, and the next few days should be wild in Cusco with the Corpus Cristi and Inti Raymi festivals on Thursday and Friday night.

To anyone who actually read this entire post, god bless you, because I'm too lazy to go back and edit it at this point.

I'll probably have an update in a few days after the street festivals.

Cheers,
Chris

A Great Day to be Alive

As I sit here listening to country music drinking coffee on the porch of the non-profit office before going to teach today, I thought I'd ramble for no apparent reason.  Last night, I realized just how much I've learned here, and I can't wait to share that with my mom and sister, touching down in Cusco tomorrow morning. A few moments have stood out when I think back on how much I've grown from an uninformed American to a member of the community around here.

-My host family is extremely involved in the Festival de Sr. de Torrechayoc, a religious celebration and dance festival in Urubamba.  That being said, Dave and I put in a big effort and roasted in the sun for a few hours this weekend in order to watch our relatives tear up some serious rug as they marched through the street in their traditional garb.  The culminating celebration for the 30 or so person dance group was at our house on Sunday night.  The party fired up around 730pm as neighbors and relatives strode through the door with crates and crates of bottles of Cusquena and boxes of unbelievable food. We feasted on roast chicken, noodles spiced up with some questionable goodness, and sweet potatoes.  Around 10, Dave and I had grooved our asses into chairs, throwing back some cold ones conversing with relatives excited to hear about who we were and where we'd come from.  The good vibes continued, and Dulia (our host mom) had a rock band come over and play for the party.  We thought it'd be a grand old night of relaxation until our uncle, Andres, pulled us onto the dance floor after a few too many cocktails and taught us how to salsa with the support of a large circle of clapping relatives.  I couldn't help but laughing at the situation at the time, but looking back on it now, it's pretty cool how accepting the family has been, and I for that, I owe them a tremendous amount of gratitude.

-Also along that note of familiarity, I've recently been striking up some good convos with the elderly woman who slings "papa rellenas," the greatest gift from God since disc golf.  These soft baked potatoes stuffed with vegetables will run you 50 cents in soles, the equivalent of about 19 US cents, and they'll plaster a smile on your face all day.  I'm happy to say that I've conquered street food in Uru without contracting anymore of the familiar gringo buzzkills, known as salmonella or giardia.

To end on a less weird note, I'm taking Wednesday-Friday off from work to go hang with my mom and sis. Should be an amazing week, and I hope they realize that they'll be seeing some of the coolest ancient ruins in the world, except for the remnants of Karen's favorite patio chair in our woods that oddly disappeared after our parents were out of town for the weekend and a multitude of thejim's friend may or may not have come over.

Anyways! Tomorrow afternoon, I'm gonna take them on a food tour of Cusco with the other Dukies, then we'll head back to Urubamba at night.  If my vivacious mamabear is down for a night on the town, I'll take her and my sister out to see the bizarre nightlife of Urubamba.  On Thursday, we're white water rafting in a nearby town, Ollantaytambo.  Friday will be full of preparations for our trip to Machu Picchu, then we'll take off on our bike/hike trek to the famous Incan civilization from Cusco on Saturday morning. Assuming we don't end up falling off a cliff or contracting an incurable disease from a rogue llama, we'll be in MP on Monday.

That's all in the flat land of spiders, but just to make my mom feel better about my littlest sister's shenanigans during her absence at home, my brother has assured me that she most definitely won't be aiming at the neighbor's cats with a BB gun.

Live it up today,
Chris

Trout farm and Festival de Torrechayoc

 After a few days off from the blog scene, I'm back and coming in hot.  The end of the work week went well, as our environmental education group finalized plans for a field trip for our students to show them around the farm and greenhouse where we work. On Friday,  rather than working in the greenhouse with Ameriko, we hopped in the trailer on his moto and rode up the bumpy paths through the mountains to check out the Pumawanca trout farm.

Pumawanca Trout Farm. The tanks, each holding hundreds of trout, are in the bottom right.

Close up of a tank of medium-sized trout.

 The guys who run the trout farm sell their fish to local restaurants day in and day out, and the average trout is about 18 inches long and costs 15 soles per kilo (6 USD).  These guys must roll in the dough, and based on watching them clean and gut the fish in a matter of seconds, they've been doing it for a while.

After checking out all of the tanks and the different sized fish swarming around in the cold, fresh water, we snagged a handful of grown trout out of a tank and prepared them to cook over an outdoor fire.

Studly turkey hanging out on the farm.

We had these guys cooking in no time after pulling them out of the water.

Boiling up some potatoes to eat with our trout.

Frying up the trout over the fire.

We hung out by the stone aquaculture tanks and ate our fish around the fire. It was a great morning and a delicious break from the usual manual labor on the farm.

Friday night, we hung out in the Plaza de Armas with my wild uncle, Andres, and a few of his friends.  One of them happened to be a Peruvian police man, adorned in his full uniform with high-top boots and a shiny gun.  I'm usually pretty reserved whenever I pass a soldier or policeman in the streets based on my preconceived notions of Peruvian jail. I imagine it'd look somewhat like the Vickers first floor after the eye-opening culture experience that was the "Thug Life" party. Be that as it may, these macho guys toting around unnecessarily large rifles usually don't strike me as potential friends.  Turns out I was far from right.

Jorge, the police man, and I hung out in the plaza with the other Dukies and few of our Peruvian friends, passing back and forth bottles of Pilsen (stupidly cheap liters of beer) until he was hugging me for bringing him "the most beautiful American women to look at." Creepiness aside, this guy ruled, and we seemed to hit it off. 

As our group gradually got louder and the supply of Pilsen dwindled, he invited us down to the "station" to hang out with the police force.  I don't know if it was new-found friendship with Jorge or a lack of something better to do that allowed me to block out how bizarre this invited was at the time, but our pack of rowdy gringos rolled squad deep into the police station.  We walked in on about thirty other cops with the same thirst as Jorge.  The night ended with Jorge telling me that "I could have anything I wanted in Urubamba" because I was his friend.  I'll have to take him up on that get out of jail free card someday.

This morning was a the long-awaited festivial de Sr. Torrechayoc.  Sr. Torrechayoc is the patron saint of Urubamba, and the morning is an amazing assembly of dance groups and marching bands through the streets.  My uncle, Andres, is a coordinator of a dance group, and my little host sister participated, so Dave and I planted ourselves in the plaza and took some great pictures.

Marching band keeping the crowd rockin'.

A bunch of the dance groups wore masks like this one.

A crowd of people on Torrechayoc street, where the parades started.

Traditional drumming group.

And lastly, my favorite of all. This guy sported the sweetest threads, hands down.

The parade filed into the soccer stadium on the other side of town, where a priest led a mass of Urubambinos through mass.  The whole event seemed to me very similar to Mardi Gras, minus the Daq Shack frozen drinks and the Zulu Indians chucking decorated coconuts at the crowd.

The festival continues tomorrow morning in a similar manner, but I wanted to wrap up with a few shoutouts before closing up shop for the night.


David Chou, my partner in the environmental group and an excellent photographer, has taken all of the pictures in my blog, and although he's realistically not going to press copyright infringement charges, he deserves a bravo for all of the amazing shots he's captured.

Caroline, my one and only 11 year old sister with the sarcastic humor of a 30 year old, brought home the girls' 5th grade conny lax championship trophy today. Nice work, wee one!

Lastly, to Coach Wiseman and Pearsall and the WHS lacrosse team, congrats on winning a 21st state title this afternoon. Wish I could have been there, but duty called here in Uru.

Enjoy the weekend,
Chris