The Peru Trip - Day Two - Part I
November 4th Time ??? (Early Morning Lima)
I awaken to the sound of Saturday morning street noise outside the hotel. Funny, it sounds exactly like the Friday night street noise. Thoughts of the coming day, a day that will end in the Amazon jungle, swirl in my head. These thoughts mix with the all night din of the street, interminable snoring from one of my roomates, and the underlying feeling that my inner flow is somehow being affected by my outer changes in time and space.It is difficult to remember that water is somehow my enemy as I shower and shave. Be careful in rinsing my toothbrush. Be careful not to get any water in my mouth in the shower. Too much to worry about in the morning. I wonder how long I can keep up this regimen without slipping.
I ready myself for our day jungle bound. Still half asleep I work out what things to store at the hotel for our return and what I will need in the jungle. This will be the first of many days to make these kind of decisions. Unpack and pack, to store or not to store, that is the question. I think I could get tired of this really fast.
Somehow I end up prepared for travel and the new day. I go to have my first breakfast in Peru. Jerry had told us a little bit the night before about the different ways to order coffee. I only remember cafe con leche (coffee with milk). This is OK, it is how I like my coffee anyway. As the waiter brings a basket of rolls and croissants I manage to order the coffee. The rolls are flat and square but they taste just fine, especially with the marmalade provided. I am half way through the basket of rolls by the time the coffee arrives. The thick peruvian coffee come in a container sized like that for cream. The milk comes in a container that one might think is sized for the coffee. I manage to form a mixture that looks and tastes OK. I begin to feel my first buzz of peruvian coffee.
As part of our morning ritual we convert our money from dollars into soles (pronounced SOLE-LAYS). It turns out that the best way to do this is using one of the people who works on the street changing money. A group of us wait near the entrance to the hotel for our opportunity to talk to the woman doing the money changing for us out on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. Jerry stands with her as she runs around the corner and out of our sight with dollars to return carrying handfuls of soles. Interesting way to do currency trading.
In the few minutes before the bus leaves for the airport I need to make some special arrangements thanks to the synchronicity of the Internet. Through "The Celestine Prophecy Home Page" I met someone who knew someone with Internet access in Lima. I had written to this person(I'll call her Mira) and we had become e-mail friends. I need to talk to her to set up dinner arrangements for later on in the trip. She already told me that her relatives didn't speak English and she will be at home on this Saturday. I go to ask Edith to make the call. Mira told me that her spoken English may not be the best. I look forward to talking to her on the phone. I hope her English is OK, otherwise dinner might be a problem! I have a feeling that we will figure out how to communicate no matter what. Every experience I had in the past meeting people in person that I had previously only met through e-mail had proven to be a good one. E-mail is a great tool but nothing like meeting face to face. The different between feeling the heat from a sunlamp and basking in the glorious glow of a warm spring day.
Edith gets Mira on the phone. A nervousness grips me as I grip the phone. "Hi Mira". "Sandy?.....Hi, how are are doing!", her English is better than Edith's!. We proceed to have a few minutes of get acquainted conversation. Her voice moves with the friendly and graceful spirit which her writing did. "When are you going to do the Ayahuasca?", she asks. "Tonight I think". "Well have a good trip", she laughs at her pun and we say our goodbyes.
The day shines with the light of good conversation and adventures yet to be. Manolo, who works for Edith and Eric, helps us get our bags into and on top of the bus. He seems likes a really nice guy. A big heart in a small body. Edith, Eric, and Manolo. What a great group of people helping us in our travels. And we were just beginning.
The bus takes off on its way to the airport. On to Iquitos and the Amazon! We cruise along the beach in Lima on the way to the airport. Parts of the beach look like Southern California complete with surfers. Parts of the beach look like a construction site. I guess these contrasts are typical of Lima.
We descend into the black hole of Lima airport. I haven't felt the "new energy" in a while. What happened to it? I can certainly feel the negative energy of Lima airport. Like my spirit being covered with dirt. I can't wait to get on the plane to Iquitos.
While we are waiting Jerry introduces us to yet another one of our tour guides, Boris. Boris's light seems to shine even amist the dark energy of Lima airport. He carries a light that I would soon find again, when we reached his Andean hometown of Cuzco. Boris's spritual presence is balanced by a proper, almost English demeanor, with his clear articulation and professorial glasses. In fact I can see in Boris a cross between a college professor and an Andean shaman. That is what he would be for our group, along with being a tour guide and a good friend. Boris will be with us from now until the end of our first day at Machu Picchu.
It is a two hour flight to Iquitos. Somewhere along the way we will cross the Andes. I find myself drifting in and out of sleep as I stare at the peruvian coastline out the plane window. We are heading north before we head east to Iquitos. We get our first AeroPeru box lunch. The ham and cheese sandwich and piece of cake taste good as my hunger rises above the mediocrity of the food. I usually don't eat meat but, hey, I'm on vacation!
We descend into the dry and desert-like landscape of Chiclayo(CHEE-CLEYE-O). It is an intermediate stop on the way to Iquitos. I am beginning to get a hint of how diverse Peru really is. I also find that I like saying the name of the town! This flight is another bit of transportation on the trip that is seeming to hold time in check. If getting there is half the fun, is being there the other half? Is there more to this equation than two halfs?
Patches of the Andes appear through the clouds as patches of consciousness appear through my sleep. The terrain below is changing rapidly. The mountains are disappearing into the jungle as the plane begins its descent. Jerry says something to us about how it might be fun to take motorcycle taxis to our waiting boat rather than the bus. He says that it is like something out of Indiana Jones. Two passengers ride in a cart behind a motorcycle. It does sound like fun.
As we pass over a sea of lush jungle green a runway appears and the plane lands. So far Iquitos looks like I had imagined. The airport appears to be an oasis in the jungle. The climate feels like my Maui home but with more humidity. The feeling of a new energy awakening returns. It feels pure and clean but still to weak to have any form in my mind.
Another luggage scramble ensues. I guess this is the way it will be with 13 people. Jerry introduces us to Jorge who will be our guide in the jungle. Boris will aid him in his English. Jorge has a friendly resonance in his smile.
After the luggage situation is taken care of the group begins to pair off into taxi partners. Barbara(a fellow group member) and I negotiate the price with the driver and off we go! A herd of other taxis with other members of our group move with us in a deafening roar. The road race down the streets of Iquitos begins! We stream past rows of one story wooden buildings with wooden signs with faded paint. People are everywhere pushing carts, carrying food, clothes, and bundles that past by my gaze too fast for recognition. The vibration of the taxi and the wind rushing by heightens an already anxious exhiliration brought about by the recklessness of the driving. On we go, like something between the running of the bulls and a street grand prix.
We make and intermediate stop on our way to the boat. We are some place that looks like a downtown area, at least for Iquitos. Some of the buildings in this part of town are two stories and are made of brick. We are near what looks like a travel agency office. A block or so away is a river where the street we are on ends. Jerry tells us that it is the Amazon. A group of us wander down to the end of the street to look at the Amazon river. There is a railing that bounds the end of the street and makes a lookout area for the river. The river forms a wide brown flowing road with grass and shrubs on either side. There are some locals loading things in and out of boats scattered along the river's edge. The river has a strong a peaceful feeling, like a python moving through the grass. How appropriate. The lodge we will be staying in tonight is called the Anaconda lodge.
Staring at the river I begin to get a sense of what the new energy I am feeling is. It is life energy. An energy closer to the essence of life than any I have ever felt before. As I begin to drift further into this feeling someone says that it is time to go. We walk back to our waiting racing taxis. The bus with our luggage and those members of our group who decided not to brave the taxis are there also. Two of the members of our group are trying to make some special arrangements to buy some sort of ceremonial tobacco. They are being helped out by a young women who appears to be in her early teens. She looks local but doesn't seem to be local. Her English is quite good and her street knowledge on getting a good price for the tobacco seems good as well. Her persona is focused and strong yet lithe and effluent and ethereal. Long tight braids of jet black hair flow past dark sparkling eyes and down her long white dress and thin body. There is a magic about her. Was she somehow connected to the group?
The taxis start up again as we begin another road race. The finish line is down at the dock where we would catch our boat down the river. Vibration, exhiliration, the wind rushing by, all as we come within inches of one traffic mishap after another. This is the only way to travel!
We reach the dock and it is time to wait once again. The collection of shops in what almost look like shacks combined with the makeshift dock and old wooden long boats looks like something out of "African Queen". There is another luggage scramble as our suitcases are pulled off the bus on to a waiting boat. There is something incongrous about our luggage, most of which is new and high-tech, stacked up in this old long wooden boat with an aging outboard motor at the back. We begin to file into our own long boat, this one a little longer and wider with a thatched roof covered with some sort of palm fronds which had aged to a shade of gray. There is a seat at the back of the boat where the driver sits. By driver I mean the person who steers the outboard motor.
Memories of "African Queen" pop up again. Jerry introduces us to shaman Mateo who will also be part of our group traveling down the river. Our group is growing. Shaman Mateo has a small stature and a large beaming smile. It is almost as if he IS his smile.
As the driver starts the motor we begin to move down the river. We are traveling down the Momon river, a tributary of the Amazon. Jerry sits on the front of the boat like some giant figurehead. The boat sticks out of the water by at most three feet as we move along. The river is calm and the travel is smooth. We cruise along as sliding on brown silk. The whole feeling reminds of a ride at Disneyland except that this is real!
The river banks are are probably 50 feet away on either side. There are houses and what like businesses along the grassy bank. Much of the jungle must have been cut away along here. As the sun begins to set a green corridor of trees appears in the distance. We will begin to enter the jungle as we begin to enter the night.
Sandy Craig Shaw
sandy@bodhisattvasoftware.comGo to The Peru Trip - Day Two - Part II.
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