Language barriers, pickpockets, and altitude sickness

Traveling is not always easy. And this trip is no exception. Cusco is a city at 11,200 feet. To counteract altitude, it is recommended that you ascend slowly, an impossibility when you arrive by plane. Combine that with a city that is a virtual stair master and Cusco is the kind of place that can bring you to your knees. Literally.

Barbara and I signed up for 25 hours of one on one Spanish classes. I'm an intermediate speeding backwards towards beginner. She is a beginner speeding toward advanced. I blame the altitude for my poor performance. Quite frankly, I expected to get by with English. And, you can. But the Peruvians don't coddle their tourists. And it's equally likely that you can go to a restaurant and risk ordering roasted guinea pig without knowing it. But the real reason I want to revive my Spanish is that I want to understand this place and the Peruvian people. And this cannot be accomplished without authentic communication and some investment on my part.

Yesterday, I wanted to buy index cards to make flash cards to practice my Spanish vocabulary. My Spanish teacher told me where to go--San Francisco Plaza. One of the things that never ceases to amaze me about places other than the United States, is how thematic shopping districts can be in foreign countries. Apparently, the San Francisco Plaza is the place to buy school supplies and paper products. After ducking into the first store I encountered, I explained in Spanglish what I was after. The young girl gave up immediately after I rejected the flimsy post it notes. Her mother, ( I presume), warily turned her attention to me. I was not giving up easily. But the woman was firm that they only had paper stock "muy grande" and impractical for my purpose. Then, she adjusted her gaze over my shoulder to the door. I was desperate. In a flash of inspiration, I told her (in Spanish) why I wanted the cards. I told her I wanted to practice my Spanish, that I was taking classes at a school in Cusco, that my very own Spanish teacher had pointed me to her store. This, she found to be interesting. "What school?" "Where?" "Where was I from?" "Was I finding it difficult to learn Spanish in Cusco? Or easy?". In a second, she produced exactly what I needed. This was a sale she could support.

Afterwards, we went to the market. But not before someone deftly lifted Barbara's new camera from bag. It was a devastating loss, not just the camera, but the pictures on it.

We made it to the market anyway. I've decided resilience may be one of the most important characteristics of the traveler.