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.

Peace-ing Out in Peru

If how stray dogs are treated by a society is any indication of its culture, then the Peruvians are "peace". Happy, well fed dogs can be seen everywhere--romping through the squares, lounging in the streets, sleeping on the sidewalks. Taxi drivers honk and they jump on the sidewalk getting out of the way just in time. When asked about the dogs, the reply: "We take care of our homeless." Ouch.

We arrived in Cusco yesterday. So far, it's living up to its reputation as a "magical city". Narrow stone roads and alleyways give way to pristine squares surrounded by small shops and cafes. This is not to say that the city is not intense. Like most touristy cities, this one has it's share of hard working, even somewhat aggressive, hawkers of wares. But not like other cities that I've traveled to, these hawkers back off with a smile and maybe a joke or two.

I wanted to avoid the tourist trap of the whole llama thing. But who can resist a baby llama?

Perhaps with a bout of over-enthusiasm on our first full day, we unwisely booked a horseback ride to the Moon Temple while the sun was still shining. Just as we got to the horses in our tee shirts and jeans, the sun got jealous of our moon worshipping and unleashed rain and hail. At that point we could only laugh and practice our Spanish with Jose. "Hace frio". Welcome to Cusco during the rainy season. Now we know.

Lima: A City to Watch (and visit)

Arriving in Lima at midnight is not an altogether unpleasant experience as one might imagine. The airport was lively,but not a madhouse, and the traffic into the city was light. My first impression was that the people seemed to have a bit of a lift in their step. A sense of optimism seemed to permeate the air. As we sped through the streets to get to the hotel, I could not help but to notice that the streets were clean. And while the municipal workers clearly were at work to make that happen, the cleanliness observation has held up.

Lima is a city that holds her cards close to her chest. It was only after a guided tour today by a superb tour guide that it began to dawn on me how much this city has to offer. As it turns out, he confirmed my suspicion that something is up in Lima, and Peru. With economic growth of up to 10 percent per year with low inflation, there is reason to be optimistic, particularly after the troubled years of the 80's.

It is always more fun to visit a city that is prospering. And Lima is no exception.

This is not to say that it is a city without problems. One can hire a full- time maid for $400 American dollars per month here. And the transit system could use the able hands and inspiration of Jaime Lerner, which directly relates to the sir quality issues, both now and in the future.

On the flip side, restaurants won't even serve ceviche in the evenings. If the fish is more than 3 hours out of the water, it is not fresh enough. And this is only a hint at the relatively new emphasis on the culinary scene. It's a scene to be taken seriously. Peru now has more culinary schools per capita than anywhere else in the world. This is a hint of things to come. After all, with 19 restaurants opening per day in Peru, chefs will be in demand. It stands to reason that the tourist dollars are just getting started here

About me!

I’m 47.  Freshly emptynested, I’m doing what many people dream of doing:  I’ve sold my house, my son is safelyensconced in college, and I’m hitting the road. I look younger than I am.  On myrecent birthday, a girl in a bar told me that she thought I was only a fewyears older than she was.  She was29.  No matter that the girl was lit andthe bar very dark.  I took my firstcomplement of my 47^th year and smiled.  I’ll take it. At my age, I take what I can get.

First stop: Peru.  As it turns out, my friendBarbara will be joining me for that.  Wewill spend a month and a few days there. I’m looking forward to a physically demanding trip punctuated byretreat-like downtime.  Adventure girlmeets New Age.  And, as it turns out,Peru is one of the world’s hotspots right now for culinary exploration.  Barbara and I are both major foodies.  So, with these ideas in mind, we havedesigned an adventure that will include Spanish classes, cooking classes,trekking to Machu Picchu, trekking in the Sacred Valley, meditation, yoga, andbeach time.  I’ve traveled enough to knowthat it can be grueling, stressful and disappointing.  My goal: to keep it all in perspective and soak it in.

I spent my career years up until now working in the field ofcommunity development.  I’ve done avariety pack of things—worked as a homeownership counselor, ran a couple ofnonprofit organizations, worked for a city sponsored program to promotedowntown housing, made debt and equity investments for Fannie Mae’s AmericanCommunities Fund, and finally, spent the last 10 years publishing a magazineabout Baltimore, called Urbanite. 

I’m a passionate person. And up until now, my passion has been largely about Baltimore andcities—how they tick, why some work and some do not, how to inspire innovation,cultivate leadership and tackle intransigent problems.  Baltimore has been an incredibly interestingsubject—its size (not too big and not too small), its economically and raciallypolarized population, its history, its location—balanced between the South andthe North during the Civil War, its proud blue collar background that is slowlyyielding to a future of technology and healthcare.  I once read that interesting people areattracted to problems.  I have found thatto be true in Baltimore and I am grateful for the 25 years that I spent therebumping into other passionate people committed to making the world a betterplace.

Since the magazine did not work out, I find myself lurchinginto a new phase of my life.  The threadthat bound my former career choices together and guided me from job to job hasevolved into a glittering, fragile strand—the kind that you see on a breezysummer day carrying small spiders to new territories.  Like the spiders, I feel I’m being carried ona journey with no idea where I will land.

I do know this much. After Peru, I will head south to the warm climes of Florida to begin the‘work while traveling’ portion of adventure on a goat farm.  I ran into a woman the other day that told methat when goats show up in your life, you are either taking life too seriouslyor not taking life seriously enough. Both are true for me.  So, itseems fitting that my farming sojourn begins with goats.