Familiarity and Difference

6/25/15

   
         (This is a short entry. I spent most of the day on buses.)

It is amazing how fast something we do becomes a habit. It is even more interesting how sights and sounds become familiar. Having been away for a while, it is an effort to remember all the various emergency numbers, currencies, rules on tipping, bathroom requirements (are there toilet papers? Toilet seats? Running water?!). You feel like you are in a RPG all the time. Warning new coins, getting new missions and trying to gain more experience across different countries. 

Since I was leaving for Guayaquil and Cuenca, I woke up early for a quick but healthy breakfast (vegetables and fruits!). I was trying to do something stupid: going all the way to Guayaquil then back across to Cuenca, all because of security (well, and I was told the bus ticket prices are cheaper that way: not true!). I arrived early at the bus station for the 10am bus. The bus came surprisingly on time: at 10:20am. We all boarded the really packed bus and headed to the border.

We arrived at the border around 1:45pm. The border looks surprisingly clean and spacious (ah, later I realized why they needed so much space), modern and sleek. We started to line up for the Peru exit stamp and the Ecuador entry stamp. Everyone was moderately excited, and we all to chatted a little under the hot sun. After  20 minutes, I realize why they need space: the process is  much slower than expected. There were 2 agents from each country, but the guards allowed locals or your agents to cut queue. At the same time, the agents asked certain citizens from certain countries lots of questions. There is also the process of charging people whom have lost their paper (the little slip of paper tourists have to keep, comes with the immigration form). 

While I was waiting, I picked up the local brochure and was surprised to discover: apart from the currency, Ecuador also adopted the emergency number, cab system, and many things US. It is nice to get back to a system I have learned. We finally left the immigration at 3:30pm and arrived at Guayaquil at 8:00pm. I immediately jumped into a local bus to Cuenca. Again, I was back on familiar ground: the bus is quite similar to those in Bolivia. There was no bathroom for the 3.5 hours trip, and people used natural ventilation (windows) for climate control. I eventually arrived at Cuenca at midnight, took a cab (yellow cab!) to my hostel: only to hear they gave my bed away. They finally found a bed somewhere, and I crashed (literally. I had to climb up and accidentally fell into the bed). 

On one hand, it was an exhausting day, with lots of sitting and not much eating. On another hand, I am in another country, which had seemed to adopt the U.S. system for many things. It felt a little bit like I have come back to a place I am slightly familiar with. At least, I can call the emergency number now without having to look it up….

Prep and Pack

6/24/15

   
                 As I am starting to get more used to traveling (alone. So sad), I realize there are places I want to stay longer at, and places I am ready to leave after a day or two. It is not always about how comfortable I feel or how safe the place is; it usually has to do with what I can do. For example, I love beaches (wow, if you say that really fast, people may get the wrong meaning), but there are really limited things I can do. I love reading by sea, watching sunset, enjoying the sight/sound/smell. However, with my sight limitation, I am hesitant to try surfing or kite surfing. Being in Mancora for 5 days was a luxury (time wise), but I am so ready to move on to Ecuador. With Ecuador, Columbia, Cuba and Brazil to go, I am actually starting to feel the time crunch (guess my time management aide is starting to raise its ugly head). 

I woke up feeling tired, especially since the bartenders decides to have an impromptu table tennis match outside one of my room window. Since this is the low season, there are not a lot of guests in the hostel. All these bartenders have been staying here for a while (more than a month usually), so there are always more bartenders than guests. Plus, with volunteer as bartenders, there are always very drunk bartenders by the end of he night. (Maybe that’s how the hostel is making money?!). I slowly dragged my rear to breakfast: first in the hostel for 2 pieces of bread and coffee, then to Green Eggs and Ham for eggs, fruit salad and a milk shake.

The afternoon was spent on going for a long run to the south beaches. If you ever visit Mancora, I highly suggest staying at the South Beach. It is a lot less crowded (well, deserted at this time of the year), and the hotels there look amazing. They all have beach chairs, pillows, hammocks, bar, sofas, etc. With amazing scenery, nice fine sand (well, not white sand, but super soft), lots of readily available alcohol, I think it is the perfect vacation spot for everyone. I mean, the beach is so expansive that you can send kids to run in either direction. To the birth, they will be stopped by the military. To the south: they can run all the Rayo wn the coast.

The evening was spent finding a good place for dinner, packing my bags and trying very hard to sleep early (we shall see how the last one fare). I am relatively happy I got to spend quality rest time in Mancora. However, I think it is also time I continue my journey. Seeing all these “volunteer bartenders” in the hostel has made me realize how easy it is to get comfortable during a short stay that eventually turns into a long extended stay. Personally, I feel I have miles to go and lots to do before I can rest. (Hmm…I think someone famous once said the same thing. Probably a poem…)
(Yes, I know who wrote that poem, and whom. Kudos to my literature teacher!)

Running and Warning

6/23/15

     

                   Have you realize everyone gives you warning about things these days? Your MacDonald coffee cup warns you the beverage you are about to enjoy maybe hot (unless you ordered ice coffee, of course. Then again, they could give you cold coffee in be wrong cup); not drinking enough water will cause dehydration on a hot day (unless, of course, you spend the day in an air conditioned room); and many more. We are warned everyday about lots of things, and have learned to sieve the serious ones from the weird ones. Personally, I take advices/warnings with a grain of salt (and other condiments…). I guess secretly, I like being rebellious (well, I was a good kid and never quite reached the rebellious teenager phase. I think I still am at a mental age of 12).

I woke up, roll to my right side and immediately remembered the event of yesterday. My wound looked better in the morning, but I see splatters of blood on my bed sheet just like you’d expect after a wedding night/prom night (the joy of having a mind like 12 years old!). I put some cream (the antibacterial kind, not the drinking kind. But I bet that would also be good for my skin.) on the wound, and went to Green Eggs and Ham for breakfast. As usual, it is the perfect beach day: not too hot, sunny and windy. As I ate, the internal struggle between not aggravating my injury or going for another run took place. I talked to myself (probably scaring the other patrons) for quite a while.

In the end, I walked over to buy my bus ticket to Guayaquil (and hopefully catch another bus to Cuenca the same day), and went for another run at low tide. It was an amazing run: the low tide allows access to stretches of beach I could not eat to before. I found lots of places deserted, and even startled some vultures, gulls and other animals. The scenery was quite impressive, and The whole place was deserted. 

All was well until I reach the north portion of the beach. An armed military police/guard walked over to me and asked me where I was going. When I said “just running on the beach”, he told me the northern beaches are dangerous, and I should turn back. It was then I remembered reading about this in wiki travel. I debated for about 5 minutes on whether to run further north (while running), and finally decided to turn back and run the south beach instead. While I have read the north portion is safe and accessible to tourists, having an armed military person approach me did make me paranoid. Also, the south beach proved to be a great spot too, with more hotels, restaurants and bars along the beach.

Tired after the run, I opted for a quick lunch, drank an ice cream coffee float, and read my kindle on a pier, enjoying the sun, sound of waves, noises of kids and salt water smell. It was a great afternoon and perfect way to relax on the beach. I quite like the Mancora beach, except the lack of bathrooms. Apparently, there was a public bathroom, but it had collapsed. The buildings are still there, with warning signs. The floors of the pavilions that lead up to it were also missing. Danger signs were everywhere, although everyone just walk on the remains (of the structure, by bodies). 

Looking at all the danger signs, I guess while I occasionally like to ignore warnings, I do take them seriously. If someone spent enough money and effort to warn me, I guess the least I can do is listen, take note and decide if I should heed the warning. I like to think I can analyze the facts and decide if something/some action is too dangerous for me, or if it will adversely affect others.  And that was how I arrived at the conclusion of doing this trip. I hope to take more risks, and be rewarded proportionally. 

(That all sounded so noble. Actually, I just want an excuse to go running on the beach and get a tan…)

Rock and Abrasion

6/22/15

   
         You always want your injury to be impressive (I guess no one wants j juries, but if you can choose), a story that you can retell to friends, families and even strangers with gusto, impressing everyone. But you also want injuries to be non-life threatening, for obvious reason (can’t really tell a story from grave, right? Unless ghost exist. Hmm. Haunting would be interesting). But then again, you can’t really dictate how and the extend of injuries (unless you are a masocist?) most of the time. It is quite the dilemma.

I woke up today with the best of intentions: go for a run, but my bus ticket to Guayaquil (then to Cuenca. I was told it is better to cross border with Cruz Del Sur. CIFA has some shady stories of travelers getting drugged?!), eat breakfast at a place call Green Eggs and Ham, walk to the south beach during low tide, and then grab dinner. I woke up around 7:30am and atarted my run on the beach. It was a nice day, and the beach was already crowded. About 25 minutes in, I can across an area where the waves were crashing against rocks. Knowing the water was not that deep, I decided to walk across (since I saw sand on the other end). 

Of course, a strong wave decided to materialize then and there, and I was literally picked up and crashed against the rocks. I was surprised, and immediately knew my iPod is done for. I staggered back to the dry sand, trying in vain to dry my iPod, with my already soaked clothes. It was only when I looked down that I realized/ I had abrasion all over my right thigh, and it was bleeding pretty heavily. I washed it with seawater the best I could (to get rid of sand) , and then walked gingerly back to my hostel.

After bleeding all over the shower, I stop wasting blood and managed to access the damage: it is mostly flesh wound, but quite a bit of skin was torn during the close and personal encounter with rocks. I went to the pharmacy and got some anti-inflammatory cream (well, I meant I pointed to my leg, using some bad Spanish to get medication. I must say, the lady did not even bat an eyelash and just calmly told me to get the cream. I guess she must see a lot of wounds working in a surf town? But at least I can safely say she is not a vampire…)

The rest of the day was spent on trying not to tear the wounds. I went to brunch at Green Eggs and Ham, and was suitably impressed. They have really good omelets and I think I will go there for breakfast. I did also walk (well, limped) to the bus station and get their bus schedule. 

So, I am sorry for this very boring (albeit bloody) entry . Everyone who saw the wound asked if it was from surfing (or kite surfing). I wish I could have said it was, or told them I was stuck between a shark and a hard place (heh. Hard place). But I guess the reality and truth  is often less exciting than what we want. However, u do know that I really want less of such excitement in my life. I like to have all my body parts (skin I a body part too!) intact when I finally finish my trip. 

(Although it would have been cool if I really got stuck between a shark and a hard place….as long as I survive and can write a blog about it.) 

Old Man and The Sea

6/21/15

   
             Since I have more time, I actually read through some of my more recent blog posts. I noticed a trend (yes, of course apart from the poor grammar, bad spelling, etc.): I have been grumpy in the past week (like the grandpa in Simpsons- hey I have yellow skin too!!). Some travelers have told me this might happen. Supposedly on long trips, everyone goes through some emotional ups and downs as time passes by. You enter a cycle of excitement and weariness, like the waxing and waning of the moon (That, or I am either having menopause or turning into a werewolf). A little of me think it has to do with the poor hostels experiences I have recently, along with a lack of good travel buddies (hm..I did meet Julian in the Amazon though). Whatever the case, I really need remember to be positive about things (hmm. Is that even possible for me?!).

I woke up with a pain in my neck (literally, not figuratively. But the bar music was a pain in my rear last night. Figuratively, not literally. Confused yet?) due to the flaccid pillow (hehe). I went for a run, only to discover it was high tide and there was limited beach to run on before I was stranded on rocks. Interestingly, the hostel here actually have a pull up bar, some weights and a barbell made from steel rebar and concrete. So I just did some exercise and headed for breakfast. It was a complicated system: I had to collect a ticket from the front desk, then walk to the pool bar (about 20 steps) and hand in the ticket for 2 pieces of bread, coffee and juice. The MBA in me want to streamline the system, but I resisted the urge and just  ate the bread.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach, reading a book and watching people learn how to surf. It is always a regret of mine not being able to learn surfing: my glasses won’t fare well (or more importantly, I won’t fare well without my glasses. It could be a real farewell to the living world for me). It was a lot of fun watching a group of girls ogling at guys learning surfing. I seriously avoided ogling at kids playing just in case some parents got the wrong idea. Also, I once again confirm the theory: people who wear the least clothing are those you really wish they’d wear more clothing. 

In the evening, I climbed up to a local lighthouse for a view of the sunset (and thereby trespassed a few backyard). Noticing an onslaughts if kids approaching the lighthouse with the same intention (well, I guessed with the same intention. They might have been there to play hide and seek for all I know), I opted to watch sunset back on the beach. I love watching sunset, but this quote always comes to my mind:” you know- one loves sunset when one is so sad…” I think today of all days, I wish I could have watch sunset 44 times. (If you are confused, google that quote.)

The bar is a lot quieter on a Sunday night, and I hope I can sleep well tonight (minus the neck cramp!). I think to take everything into perspective, I am actually doing pretty ok. I have my books (kindle!), my connections with family and friends (blog!) and the ability to enjoy traveling and good food (money…sigh). I guess it is a good thing I decided to stop for a while and relax. My brain, of all things, definitely needed a break from all these inner monologues. Hopefully, my emotions will swing back to balance and I can appreciate the experience positively again. 

(Someone shod really invent a way to watch sunset 44 times a day. A fast jet? A very fast boat? Space rocket? No, I don’t want to watch a video of sunsets…that’s cheating!)

Beach and Music

6/20/15

   
               I am a big fan of music. I listen to radio when driving, music when running, and watch lots of music programs. I always think that listening to Mandarin and Cantonese pop music helps me with my slowly deteriorating language skills. Even when I was in Salar de Uyuni and we had to listen to 3 Bolivian songs on repeat for hours, I was moderately ok (moderately) with it. I never thought there would be a day when I want music to just stop. (Well, as you can guess…I do now!)

I took an overnight bus to Mancora- a famous beach town in Peru. The bus was actually an interesting experience. A lot of people told me how great the Peruvian bus company Cruz del Sur is, and I can see why. They have their own private bus terminal Lima, have wifi on bus (well, have to pay for that), have personal screen for movies, books (?!), music and games. They even do security check with a wand and bag check before boarding. Once we were all seated, they took a video of all the passengers for security. It is almost like Argentina or Chilean buses.

I was quite excited about all the bus until the attendant started to talk to us. She was professional, but not friendly nor accommodating. She always refuse to let us off at rest stops to stretch our legs (although we all learn to just walk pass her…), even though she and the drivers stopped at a fruit stand to buy some fruits. I have to say, compare to Andesmar, it was a little let down. But after Bolivia, it was definitely a huge improvement. I spent the time watching most of the movies, and stuffing my face (since I bought snacks, forgetting I am no longer in Bolivia. I think I am getting fat!). 

Mencora is a beach town. The weather is pretty warm in the day, and slightly less warm at night. Since my reason for being here was to relax, I booked a hostel bed (4 beds dorm) in Kokopelli, which on wiki travel received quite good comments. The room is great, with a private bathroom except one huge drawback: it is right next to the bar. With wondows that cannot be closed, the bar music just bounce in the room like a giant boom box. I tried asking for a change (err…of rooms. Would be weird if I ask for coins…), but they told me the other rooms are either 8 beds or private dorms. Seeing a sign for volunteering at the bar, I thought I could solve the problem by just working there. Unfortunately, they want me to stay for a whole 7 days before volunteering, and I am not quite sure I will be here that long (especially living next to a bar that opens until 2 am). The rest of the day was spent at the beach, watching kite surfers flying through the air, families enjoying the waves and other water sports (while trying not to appear pedophilic. I mean, what would you think of a stranger singleM start taking photos of your kids in bathing suit?) . It was a really nice and relaxing time, and I felt much better after spending a few hours in the Sun and sea. (Although I did witness some very public display of affection by one couple who was straddling one another, with the guy’s hand roaming all over her ample…err…rear asset. They were eventually asked to stop by the police after children started gathering around them. Kids are mature these days! I, being a gentleman, merely blended in and exchanged knowing glances with the children. But who knows, the parent might have thought I am the weirdo. Or pedophile. I really need to learn Spanish better!)

Well, now I am sitting in the lounge area trying to decide what to do for the night. Should I tough it out and just try to sleep? Go find a quiet place in town? (No, I am not joining in. The beers and drinks are way too expensive. It is almost the same price as Seattle. I need someone to buy me beers…) I guess everything is relative, and best taken at small doses. Much as I love music, having it blasting at me when I am sleep deprived is really not as enjoyable. It felt more like an interrogation chamber than a relaxing room at the beach. I can see why everyone prefers hotels….

(Well, I like hostels. But I really don’t understand the party until 2am next to bedrooms part. It is a hostel, not a frat house. I wish someone can tell hostel owners that. But with all the young people spending money at the bar every night, I doubt things will ever change. There is a reason why it is call a party circuit. Ok, where is my beer?!)

Seattle and Bus again

6/19/16

   
 I am on the road again. I am saying goodbye to Lima and heading to Mancora- a beach town for surfers and kite boarders. I have to say: I stayed in Miraflores neighborhood of Lima and really enjoyed it. Of course, this is also the tourist and more expensive neighborhood, so everything is modern but pricy. 

I just ran into someone from Seattle: Matthew. Surprisingly, he also worked on a sound transit project as an electrical engineer. It was fun to catch up on Seattle and what we did for a living. He is on a 3 months trip, with last month in Peru. It is weird to actually give advice on what to do in Peru….I guess I finally realized I have traveled through quite a few places in Peru!

I will be on the bus again for 19 hours. Wish me luck! Of course, I spent the morning packing and trying to find snacks. One thing bad (well, apart from sitting a lot), I eat a lot more junk food on a bus. Something about still still for extended time just make me hungry…

(Or I just like to eat junk food? But doesn’t everyone?!)

Rest and friendship

6/18/15

   
             (I will be on a bus for 19 hours starting at 2pm tomorrow. Please excuse the gap in the blog again! Lode without cell data can be tough!)

So far on my trip, I have been blessed (err…figure of speech. I am not sure who wants to bless me…) o meet many great people, and most of whom I was able to hang out, talk and have a slightly more meaningful conversations. I know, friends on trips are always fleeting: we all had the best intentions to keep in touch, but time and distance only widen the gap. Therefore, it is always good to have a balance perspective on meeting new friends: it is rare to find people you can talk to, and even rarer to be actual good friends after the trip.

I woke up today feeling a little strange: I was in a 10 beds dorm room with car noises. Gone was the peace and quiet of jungle (and my own shower and bedroom), I was back in Lima for a day before my 19 hours bus trip to Mancora, a beach town. I plan to do some relaxation and rest after a fairly busy few weeks, traveling from Cuzco to Arequipa to huacachina to paracas to Lima to Iquitos to Lima. It was a great 2 weeks, especially since I got to meet up with Huanjie and then see the famous Amazon. 

Since I did nothing but sat on a boat for the past 5 days, I went for a long run along the beach front. I planned to meet up with Americo and Marco, both of whom I met on the Amazon trip, and also Yovav, whom I met on the Salar de Uyuni trip. Everyone was busy until the night, so I took time to visit another local tourist site:Huaca Pucllana. According to our guide, this site is pre-Inca, built as a ceremonial temple by the Lima culture. The Lima culture worship the sea, which they used sharks as a symbol of representation. Young women were offered as sacrifices to appease the God, and their bodies were decapitated, mutilated and dismembered after. The site was also used as a burial site for the elite. One of the more interesting aspect is the construction. They used mud bricks to build “bookshelves” and then stack those on top of one another. According to the guide, this made the site earthquake resistant, and was able to survive a 7.0 earthquake back in early 2000. Since Lima has no rain (being a desert), the climate preserves the site, leaving it mostly intact. Unfortunately, some areas were used for construction before the site was preserved. Another fun fact: there is actually a restaurant on site,  right next to the archealogical excavations. It was such a weird mix: well-dressed locals enjoying expensive lunches right next to a cemetery where virgins were sacrificed. I guess when your country is old enough, old corpses and burial sites become pretty common.

The evening was of course spent watching the football game : Peru vs Venezuela in the Copa cup. I wanted to watch with the locals in the nearby sports bar, but was turned away at the door (they said the bar was too full, but I overheard some had called ahead to reserve seats before hand). I even tried Chilli’s, which also said they were full (well, I’d say 75% full at tee bar and 25% full at the restaurant portion…). I finally found a spot in To y Romas (I think there is some irony there..) and enjoyed the game. With Venezuela down 1 man early in the game, I thought it would be an easy win for Peru. However, the Venezuelans held on strong until late in second half. Final score: Peru 1; Venezuela 0.

I tried to meet up with all three people I met on tours, but it was all for naught. Everyone was busy with something, and I ended up not meeting anyone anywhere. It was a good reminder that while travelers have time, life goes on for everyone else. It is inevitable we all go out own ways after the tours, but a small part of me always hope friendships will stay. After seeing a friend after 11 years in Lima, this is a good reminder friends and acquaintances also pass through our lives. Best enjoy the moment while it lasts!

(Or take lots of photos. When all else fails, all your other friends will be jealous of your trip and your other “friends”…)

Man and Tourism

6/17/15

   
                     It was strange to end my Amazon journey. For one, I never got to trek in the forest: the water was still too high to do any meaningful walking trips. Secondly, I felt like I was just getting used to living (in comfort) in the jungle: the nice 3 meals a day, endless tea/coffee, big room to myself, nice cold showers 3 times a day. It was easy to forget that’s not how most people live in the Amazon; or the fact that there is so much deforestation and animal killings in the jungle. ( I know, I have been using the words jungle and forest interchangeably: not correct!) When you are a tourist, you pay for the comfort and luxury, and hence has a surreal experience. Yet, many locals also depend on tourism for their livelihood. This the eternal traveler dilemma (one which I feel quite privilege to have): to visit or not to visit? How much to spend? Should I do ecotourism, offset my carbon footprint? Volunteer? What is a good tourist to do?

As usual, I woke up to the sound of jungle and slowly remember when I was. It is nice to lie in the dark, listening to the surround sound while counting the number of new mosquito bites I gained in the last 8 hours. After that, I went for a quick cold shower, eat the awesome breakfast, and then head to my tour. Disappointingly, Eduardo told me due to the high water, I could not do the jungle hike. I was to join another group of 3 (which included my new found engineer friend Julian), and went for the canoe excursion. It was disappointing because I was really looking forward to a hike in the famous Amazon jungle (well, I guess pretend to be an explorer is a version of fulfilling my dream of an adventurer), but also, I already did he same tour 2 days ago. The guides covered the same topics and showed the same termite nest, and we all sat under the heat while the guides paddled the canoe. I am not sure who suffered more- us for being bored and sat under the roasting sun; or the guides for paddling so much. I think they could have easily asked us to do some paddling, and we would all been more satisfied. 
After lunch, I packed up my bags, said goodbye to my nice private room, (but not before overhearing the Australian couple talked about how the Chinese they met on a trip rushed to the buffet line. A little ironic, since their group was the first in line for lunch, and complained loudly about food from yesterday…) and headed back to Iquitos. To me, the trip was quite a complicated event: I finally went into the famous Amazon, saw many incredible things, witness some amazing sights: but did not fulfill the dream of walking in the forest and seeing a wild caiman in the dark. However, I think I made some good impression since the bartender yelled both “Argentina” and “Hong Kong” when we departed: for me and Julian. 
Julian and I arrived in Iquitos and had 2 missions: find a bar to watch the football game, and find a caiman tooth necklace (ah, I am the one who want the necklace, of course). I think we both kind of failed since the game was a day ago, and I did not buy anything. In the end, Julian chatted with a tour guide and we made a trip to see the floating town- Belen. It is a poorer area of the town, with more than 18,000 inhabitants. The town consisted of wooden floating boat houses built on rafts fixed to large wood piles, and houses on stilts. Interestingly, the town actually have electricity, water, streets lights, a bar, petrol stations and many more. It is quite the engineering feat and we were both suitably impressed. Sine the local inhabitants uses boats and canoes as main form of transportation, it is also known as “Venice of Loreto”. While life is rustic and simple, it is also quite a shock to someone like me who is used to boathouses in Seattle. These houses are made of plywood, timber and sheet metal. The wood is so thin that you can see through them, and some houses looked to be falling apart with trash flaring underneath. It is a far cry from the luxury houseboats, but the inhabitants seemed to be enjoying themselves in their everyday life. The kids were jumping into the water, and everyone waved at us when our tour boat passed by. There were kite flying on houses , football games and “swimming pools” all around town.
After our tour, Julian and I went on a last mission: to find the Amazonica – a beer produced in the Peruvian Amazon. I am glad to say we finally succeeded. We sat in a opened air restaurant enjoying our cold beer (and a fruit salad for me) while watching sunset facing plaza de armas with crazy traffic (filled with motorcycles and motorcycle rickshaws). It was quite the perfect end, sinceJulian and I had to part ways. He will be flying tomorrow and traveling south, while I will stay in Lima for a day before busing north to Mancora. Well, almost the perfect ending, since we were constantly bombarded by people begging for money, selling sunglasses, and asking for weird churches donations. 
At the airport, I used my time wisely and decided to type up my entry of the day. So far, I am not quite sure what a good and conscientious tourist should and would do, but I hope I have been one thus far. I really want to see the world and everything it has to offer. At the same time, I also want to save the animals and not introduce too much commercialism to the local population. I have learned not to give people money on the streets (even to children), and tried very hard to buy something whenever I am on a tour. For me, the visit to Belen felt much more “real” than the tribe visits. Maybe I am quite the cynic, but I will always be happy to buy something from local shops when I visit a new place. I know they are dependent on tourists for business and income. As for people begging, singing, or selling things to me when I am in a restaurant/bar/other establishments/train station/ bus terminal : I appreciate the effort, but I really prefer to enjoy my meals without distraction, and find my way around a new station in peace. 
(Well, I say that now….)

Man and Rain

6/16/15

   
                       I like rain (well, I do live in Seattle after all), but in moderation, of course. One of my favorite past time is to air in a coffee house, reading a book (or whatever electronics i have), while enjoying the sound and sights of rain. I also like running in rain: it gives a lot more motivation to finish the run so I can take a hot shower. Of course, as a civil engineer who does mainly drainage, rain is part of my career. I pay a little more attention to flood, to rain fall events, hydrography, and sea/River level. It is, in essence, in my everyday life. 

The fourth day in Amazon started just like the third: I had breakfast, then got ready for my 9am tour to Isla de Mono (the Monkey Island). Since I am the solo tourist left, my guide and I boarded a small open boat and headed to the island. Within 10 minutes, it was raining heavily and I was soaked. Of course, this being in Amazon, the sun also came out for a while, so I was in the rinse and dry cycle for another 40 minutes. With being simultaneously wet and dry, I have also never realized how uncomfortable my ass could be, especially riding on such hard surface (sorry, even I could not stop giggling after typing that two sentence).
The Island of Monkey is actually a monkey sanctuary. Founded in 2011, it partners with the Dallas aquarium and has built a visitor center to showcase, protect, raise and tame monkeys. In Amazon, monkeys are eaten as part of the local diet, and hence the numbers are decreasing at an alarming rate. Unfortunately, there was a huge flood in 2014, and much of the visitor center was covered with mud. When I arrived, they were in the process of cleaning up and getting the center ready for tourist season. I was greeted by quite a few monkeys who climbed all over me, pulled my hair, took my glasses, combed me for fleas: the usual monkey treatment. I saw a marmoset, spider monkey, tamarin, titi monkey, and many more. They gave me a short tour of the center, and asked for a donation. I never quite found out why I was not allowed to walk on the island itself. I was ushered in and out within record time.
In the afternoon, I visited another animal reserve. Of course, it also rained the whole way there, but my guide managed to wrangle up a covered boat this time. The reserve was pretty amazing with caiman, anaconda, Victoria lily, parrots, piraña, and many more. My guide brought some feed so I can feed the animals with raw fish and animal feed. (PSA: I am a big fan of saving animals, but not a fan of turning them into petting zoo exhibits. I understand, however, some of their habitats are completely destroyed and thus must be contained in an enclosure. Or must they?)
On the way back, it was pouring rain again, coupled with howling wind. Even with the cover, we were completely soaked. It was amazing to see people crossing the Amazon on a small flat boat during a storm. I saw fishermen pulling up nets, children with their parents heading somewhere, and other tourists in their tour boats all trying to get to their respective destinations. When I got back to the lodge, I took a very cold shower (since we have no hot water for shower), and am now lying in a hammock, fighting off mosquito, while typing this entry. I guess being in Amazon brought a little more perspective on rain. As with most people, I cod afford to enjoy rain because I know there will be hot shower after I got caught in the rain, or because I could observe the rain from a dry and comfortable place. I did not have to fight the elements for survival, and that option give me a chance to appreciate the beauty of nature. Things are quite different when I am directly under rain or sun.
 (Well, time to go get my dinner and instant coffee! Still pretty good life in a lodge…I also met an Argentinan civil engineer who also does drainage at the lodge. His name is Julian, and he is on a 2 months trek from Lima to Buenos aires. I had a great time taking to him, especially when he brought out a big bottle of fernet. Here’s to wishing him a great trip!)

In case you are trying to visit Iquitos, here are something I leaned [please consider it a suggestion only. I am no means an expert in anything]:

1. Visit during the tourist season (July to September). The place will be better prepared for tourists, and the water level should be lower so you can do trekking, not just boating all the time.
2. Fly to Iquitos from Lima via LAN or Peruvian airline. They have daily flights, and is relatively reasonably priced (US$100+)
3. When you land, you can either pick a tour company at the airport, or take a cab to plaza de armas and find one there. Be sure to ask a few for price comparison. Also, check websites for amenities and photos. Many lodges now have wifi, air conditioning, pool, etc.
4. Be sure to bring enough clothes. You sweat a lot and things get muddy fast. Also get lots of sunscreen and insect repellent. And water. And flashlight. And poncho. And good shoes (they also rent rain boots here). 

5. I’d say unless you are a huge jungle fan, 3 days 2 nights is a great trip length. Be sure to ask your guide for itinerary, and you should ask about places/things you want to go/see. They should be able to adjust their itinerary for you. 

6. This is actually a very lazy type of excursion. You have no more than 4 excursions a day, and the majority of time is spent waiting: in your room. In a hammock, etc. You can’t take a stroll in the jungle alone (well, you can. But may not come back alive), no place to run or exercise. Buffet for all meals too. I have actually gained weight in 5 days. (Worse than Salar de Uyuni. Colca canyon, on the other hand, was great for losing weight….)