GUESS WHAT I DID TODAY?!

I ate a whole frog. No joke. It wasn't intact. Rather, pureed, with a melee of other things that had supposed 'health benefits'. So, here's how that happened. I had told my Spanish convo teacher yesterday that I wanted to visit the central market, Mercado Camilo. She told me that it was really unsafe and she'd rather I didn't go by myself, so would it be ok if we went together in class? Which of course was preferable, to have a native guide, so I said yes. Today, we went... and it was quite the experience. The market itself is HUGE, basically just a giant open building with a huge arched corrugated metal roof, vaulted above everything. There are kind of 'sections,' the fruit section, the meat section, the flower section, the herb section, but everything is really just mushed all together and the AMOUNT OF STUFF is mindblowing.

Some choice favorites:
- An entire aisle of 'witchcraft products' used for sacrifices and cleansing the house and spirit. There were many fresh herbs, depictions of idols and saints, and also an entire booth of LLAMA FETUSES (dried). Oh, wow.
- The entrails section, in which the floors were smeared with blood, there were men ripping intestines and stomachs into pieces with their bare hands, and some choice pieces of animal including testes and penises, which apparently post menopausal (native-- my teacher was careful to stress it was ONLY the natives who did this) women make into soup. Yum, yum.
- The 'live animal' section, which is where you buy your meat if you want it really, really fresh. Cages of rabbits, turkeys, geese, ducklings, hens, and, a Peruvian specialty, guinea pigs (Cuy) which I got to witness having their throats slit. Oh, joy!!!
- And the other live animal section, with puppies and kittens sleeping piled in buckets for S./3 a piece, about one dollar, with little red bows tied around their necks. Needless to say, these were not for eating.
- An entire row of fruit piled sky high, and another of  women offering fresh squeezed juice of any kind you could imagine.

And then I ate a frog. My teacher told me, ok, now you're going to try Extracto de Rana, and seeing as how it takes me about 5 minutes to catch on to everything (I seem to always be in a state of delay) I said 'OK!' It was not until we reached the Extracto de Rana booth, and I witnessed the woman behind the counter pulling a live frog out of a barrel, snapping it's head against the counter, and peeling off it's skin that I started to feel a little sick. Still, what can you do? So here's what happened... The frog was boiled, put in a blender with a bunch of different grains, some milky stuff, honey, and Peru's version of maple syrup, pureed to a nice thinness, strained (thank god... no bones) and given to me in a lovely glass, the kind in which you would have a particularly lovely ice cream parfait.
Oh, god. So I drank it... what else was I supposed to do? And it actually tasted pretty darn good... kind of like whole wheat toast with honey in liquid form. I tried not to think about what it actually was, and finished it up.
So, why the frog? My teacher said that it is good for the entire respiratory system, but when I told my host mom about it she said 'Oh no! Peruvian women who drink that are pregnant within the next year!' and chuckled at me. Apparently it's a powerful aphrodesiac, as well as helpful to the lungs... ha, ha.
So, that was fun.
In other news, tomorrow is my last day of classes and I must admit I'm pretty happy about that... I feel like I've made a lot of progress, but I'm also getting a little tired of going to school every day. Let the real vacation start (joke. It's all a vacation). This weekend I'm going trekking in the Colca Canyon, which is 2x as deep as the Grand Canyon, and home to the famous Peruvian Condors. I'm pretty excited to get some exercise... feel like I've been sitting on my butt and eating for 3 weeks straight!
Love & frogs to all.

Las Photas

El Toreo

About 100 Tios and Tias, plus a very white Anna after mass...

Host bro Guillermo, me, Toreodor, host sis Olga, other toreodor, Tia Mari Cruz, and Tio Pepe (they were the ones who got married last weekend!)

Viraco

There were no other tourists there. We spent 6 hours driving on the most uncomfortably bumpy dirt roads straight up a mountain (or rather, at hairpin turns) and the terrain turned from sheer sides of rock and plummeting canyons with no vegetation whatsoever to these terraced farms and tiny villages clinging to the hillsides. National Geographic photos all over the place.
Viraco itself is a pueblo on the top of a peak, harrowing drops on all sides, and mountain ranges in view every where you look. I would guess there are less than 1,000 people living there full time, and the entire weekend all of them were in the same places at once. In church for mass. In the cockfighting ring making bets on which gallo would win. In the arena cheering on the toreodors and yelling for blood. Dancing in the central plaza at ALL HOURS of the night and day, right outside of the window of my room.
I stayed in the house of my host father´s mom and dad, Mama Olga and Papa Guillermo. They live in a huge concrete structure, with windows and doors but no heat and no insulation, and I slept in one of three 'bunk rooms' for lack of a better word, with 6 of the tias in single beds. It was freezing cold at night. Every single woman brought an entire rolling closet. The lack of hot water did not deter them from showering every morning, putting in their curlers at night, and changing outfits at least 3 times a day. I myself brought more (borrowed) clothes on this four day sojourn than I did for my entire four month stay in S.A. There is a code of dress, even in the middle of nowhere mountains.
The fiesta was to honor both the Pueblo of Viraco and the patron Saint, Santa Urusula... I have yet to learn more about her than that she is the 'Saint of sombreros' according to my host mother, which makes little sense except that everyone in the pueblo wore a sombrero (straw, cowboy style) for the entire weekend, and at one point during mass someone did climb up on the platform of the lifesize-doll version of St. Ursula and change her hat... no one seemed to be able to explain to me what this signified, or maybe they did and I just didn't understand (par for the course...)
There is no way I can cram the whole weekend into any one blog post, but I will give you some highlights, in convenient bullet point form!
- 3 times a day, meat and potatoes. Breakfast at 8am, a big hunk of meat and a whole potato. Felt like I was playing Russian roulette the entire time with food... street food, questionable meat, stuff that had been sitting out with flies on it for hours. So far so good, but the incubation period for really bad stuff is about 3 days... so if I'm not dead by Wednesday night, I'll be totally in the clear... ha, ha.
- cockfights. Yes, I bet on them (with one of the uncles) and I lost EVERY TIME!!! Mala suerte! They are terribly interesting and terribly cruel... I saw more animals die this weekend than I ever have in my life. Which leads me to....
- bullfights. Yes, once on Saturday and once on Sunday. There is really no way to describe it. I was fascinated by the toreodors. Their costumes are incredible, pale pinks and tirquoises and violets, with glitter and baubles all over them and the tightest pants I have EVER seen. They prance about the arena, taunting the bull, sticking colorfully decorated knives in them, and then this horse covered in armor comes out and the bull charges it, and then the horse goes away and the toreodors taunt the bull some more, and finally, with much flourishing,  one of them sticks a huge sword right between it´s sholderblades, and it dies. It is both so graceful and so horrible... and people LOVE IT. I taught the entire bevy of ladies how to say 'I like your ass' in English, because they asked, and they then commenced to yell it every time one of the toreodors approached us. Hilarity ensued, for me at least... since I understood them. Also, one of the toreodors gave me the ears of the bull that he killed... apparently a huge honor. I was teased about it for the rest of the night, ESPECIALLY when the toreodors came by our house after the show (the Abuelo and Abuela are one of the most important families of the pueblo).
- I garnered triple and double takes and blatant stares every time I left the house. The only pale blonde girl ever to venture to the fiesta. It is both bizarre and slightly flattering to be such a freak. This especially happened when I went with my host brother and little cousin to the back alleyway which functioned as a hangout for the kids, and played a few rounds of foosball (called tacca tacca here, which I love the sound of) and WON! Go me. We gathered quite a crowd.
- I got to ride a horse all through the town. Major highlight. It was so increible to be riding a horse through this tiny town with sheer sides of mountains all around me,. the clear clean air and the big band playing in the plaza (did I mention that they played 24 hours a day? Right outside my window?)

Got back to Arequipa late last night (actually, 2am) and am feeling pretty good about this being my last week here. I love my family, but there are times when I feel a bit like a doll-- I can't fully communicate and can't fully understand, and so we spend a lot of time playing 'Do this Ani! Say this Ani!' or I'll say something particularly of note and Maria (mami) will turn to everyone else laughing and say 'Guess what Ani just said!!!' It kind of has the whole 'How Precious!' feeling, which I am completely capable of putting up with good naturedly, but has started to get a little bit old... My Spanish is still terrible, but at least there is Spanish there! I have made leaps and bounds, and can actually hold a conversation now. That feels like an achievment. 4 more days of class to become fluent! Ha :)

Milagros y EL MERCADO NEGRO

My dear United States,
Hello! It's my 3rd week here already. So hard to wrap my mind around... Although I guess a good part of the first week was taken up with travel... This week has been farily low key so far. Classes are more aggravating, as I know enough to say some things but not enough to ever really fully explain myself, and the learning curve seems to have plateaued. I am also the only student at my school this week, which is slightly bizarre and a little lonely. However, I am still enjoying them, and also enjoying the fact that I can actually begin to understand what is going on around my house most of the time.
Several events of note...
In October, the saint Milagros is worshipped quite fervently throughout Peru. This is noticable in women wearing sporting these very fashionable purple dresses with white rope belts. On Monday after school I went downtown, intending to go to the historical museum, but the traffic was TERRIBLE, and when I got to El Centro I saw that many streets were blocked off due to huge processions of women and men in purple, carrying banners with the image of Milagros, and burning scented purple candles. There were also some marching band instruments-- a huge trombone, drums. Many of the shops along the streets had turned their doorways into huge altars covered in purple satin, with images of the saint and candles burning. It was totally fantastic just to happen upon such an event, with no foreknowledge of it... that is what I love about travelling!
I also had an experience yesterday afternoon that not many tourists get. My host mom had asked me a few days ago if I had a nice blouse with me, because I would need one for the fiesta. Of course, I don't have one, considering I brought basically nothing with me... So she told me, saying many times 'Don't tell anyone, it's a secret!!!' that she would take me to the black market to buy one very cheaply. So yesterday we got in the car and headed through town to the seedy area... It's funny, because for the most part I have been shocked by how nice everything in Peru is-- clean, organized, etc. The mercado negro reminded me a bit more of Senegal, in the sense that it was this immense gutted maze of concrete buildings jammed with people selling piles and piles of everything, clothes, housewares, electronics, etc. We pored over piles of shirts, and it was slightly awkward because I think she had something specific in mind for me but I didn't quite know what, so I just kept saying 'Is this ok? Is this ok?' And trying to gauge her facial expressions... We finally found one that we were both ok with, and it cost me a whole S./3, about $1. The whole experience was kind of like the biggest Goodwill in the entire world, and I actually think that a lot of the items were probably castoffs from the Goodwills of the USA... how weird.
Tomorrow I am leaving in the afternoon with mi familia to head out to the countryside for the GIANT FIESTA. I´ll report back on Monday. I am half terrified, half excited... I'm sure it will be an experience, nonetheless.
Much love to all. A

AND A WEDDING

So, that happened... wow.
Yesterday was THE WEDDING. And yes, it was a wedding, not just a random bridal party. Here is how the day went: I spent the morning feeling like a doll. Which was entertaining if slightly awkward (that sentiment actually kind of describes the whole day). I tried on dresses and shoes and jewellery and my host mom and sister would say ¨Que linda!!!¨ (how cute!) or something like ¨no, the other one is better¨ and so I finally was shod in much finery and felt exceptionally ridiculous. To add to that, we got our HAIR DONE (this is like all of the high school dances I missed the chance to go to) though I declined the pedicure... By ¨got our hair done¨I mostly mean the people in the salon had probably never seen hair like mine, so they kind of straightened it and then curled it, and it ended up looking slightly like a middle aged woman from the 70s, so I actually pinned most of it up when we got back to the house. But you know, for a price of about $3 and the chance to sit in a Peruvian beauty salon, it was worth it.
We arrived approx 1 hour and 15 minutes late to the wedding ceremony, which seemed not to be an issue, as it was either starting that late or else you could kind of drop by whenever you wanted. People just seemed to kind of be milling around the church talking to each other, even as the bride and groom were saying their vows, and there was a lovely string quartet playing such classical hits as ¨Yellow¨ by Coldplay. The church itself was gorgeous, though.
After the ceremony we piled back into the car, and headed to the reception, which seemed like it was at a kind of country club. Very swanky, and MORE ALCOHOL THAN I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. EVER. In the hour before the bride and groom arrived, I was offered 4 different very sugary mixed drinks (I had one, a Macchu Picchu, which tasted like cough syrup) and then with the meal (sidenote: I find it endlessly entertaing how in the two foreign countries I have lived in for extended periods of time, vegetables are not a food group. We never eat them in my family, and we had them at the wedding but I was the only one to eat all of mine, much less touch them for more reason than to move them around the plate a bit. It baffles me.) we recieved jug after jug of cervesa, not to mention a bottle of wine for the table, and NO WATER. What? I can´t even begin to wrap my mind around how that was possible, but it was! And then, with dessert, each 8 person table got an entire bottle of Johnny Walker Red Label whisky. I have to admit, while I´d pretty much imbibed nothing until that point, the free good quality whisky was hard to resist. And that was probably a good thing, as the thing that came next was DANCING and I don´t know if it is just something that Latin women are born with, but they can move. I consider myself an ok dancer, but I was not even in the same country as them as far as moving was concerned. I felt kind of like a slightly crippled baby elephant. And of course, saying no was not an option. So I danced, and danced, and danced, and it was actually kind of fun after a while. What was NOT fun was attempting to ward off the affections of a family friend who my host mom was trying to set me up with. But I managed, slightly gracefully, to make it known that I wasn´t interested...
So, the party continued until about 10pm, and my family was literally the last one to leave. The staff was taking down the lanterns and throwing the tableclothes into bins by the time we finally exited, and I breathed a sigh of relief thinking that the party was, at last, over, and I could maybe get some sleep... but NO, the party continued, in our living room! About 10 of the adults came back to our place, as well as my host sister´s boyfriend and the guy who I was being set up with (whose name I still don´t remember. Whoops). They continued to drink, and finished off at least another 5th of rum, all the while turning the music up higher and higher and singing louder and louder. After sitting super awkwardly for about an hour and a half watching my host sister cuddle, and trying to make stilted conversation with The Boy, I politely said that I was tired and had to get up early (Lies! All Lies!) and headed to my room to listen to the singing of great Mexican hits through the walls (why Mexican? No idea).
So I´m slightly dreading the 4 day fiesta that begins on Thursday, but at the same time I very much want to go, as it is seriously a once in a lifetime experience, and I feel like it will be worth it in some way or another.
PHOTOS: The 1st and 3rd are from El Monestario
2nd is at my school, they make cakes on people´s last days. It was the blonde girl´s final day of class. The other gringa is Leanne, a brit who just finished this past week, and behind us are Pepe (my grammar teacher), his wife, and another teacher. The cake was great!
The last 2 are from the wedding. My host mom, host sister´s boyfriend, and Olga (sister) who is 15 and REALLY didn´t want to have her photo taken, and then one of me with Olga and boyfriend looking SUPER AWKWARD. I hope everyone enjoyed my fanny pack... huge fashion statement.

PHOTOS

El Monestario de Santa Catalina

Arequipa is home to El Monestario de Santa Catalina, an ancient nunnery that is basically a city within a city. It is 400 plus years old, and built entirely of the white stone that the city is famous for, called silica. Wednesday, after school, I sprung for the $12 entry fee (so expensive!) and headed through the gates into one of the most gorgeous places I have ever been. It´s hard to describe it,  but the colors were phenomenal. Blues, reds, yellows, all layered on top of each other by looking through doorways and windows and arches (I will try to post photos at some point-- I just attempted it, though, and the computer is waaaayyy too slow to upload them). The monestary is incredibly well preserved, and I spent about 3 hours wandering the cobbled streets, peeking into the rooms and kitchens, the halls and cathedrals. One of the most incredible things was that it felt like I was almost entirely alone. I ran into only 5 or 6 other tourists the entire time I was inside, which seems totally bizzare to me. Granted, it was in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday... but what an incredible experience to be able to walk through the place almost entirely undisturbed.
One of my favorite daily experiences in Arequipa is the walk from my house to downtown. The city feels so European. I walk down a windy cobbled road, past the glowing white buildings made of silica. I cross a bridge with a wrought iron railing, and perfect views of the clear blue sky and the towering mountains. Downtown itself is equally gorgeous, the central plaza is huge, with a fountain in the middle and towering palm trees. It is flanked on all sides by arcaded buildings made of silica, with restaurants and bars on their upper floors and shops on the lower, and one one side is the giant cathedral, taking up an entire city block, it´s towers visible from almost everywhere in the city. It is reminiscent of an ancient Italian town, but the colors and sounds and smells are distinctly Latin American.
Yesterday at breakfast, I had a real conversation with my family, in which they asked me if I wanted to come to a grande fiesta this weekend, for a niece that has recently been married. Of course I said yes, and was then asked if I had with me a nice dress. Yeah right! I said no, worried that this would be a major problem... but no, Olga and Maria disappeared into Olga´s bedroom and returned a few moments later with a short, slinky, low cut black dress and a pair of the pointiest and tallest high heels I have ever seen. 'Es bonita, no?' 'Si, si!' I replied, while inside thinking how I doubted that I would be able to walk in those shoes, much less dance for several hours. So tomorrow should prove to be an interesting experience! I´ll be sure to take photos...
I also figured out (finally) that the fiesta in the countryside is next week, Thurs-Sun, and that should also prove to be quite the experience. These are the things that I love about living with a host family... the kinds of true cultural experiences that it would be hard to find anywhere else.
Last night was the final night of one of the other students who is taking classes at my school, a girl named Leanne from York, England. She invited me to go out for drinks with her, so we headed to Calle San Francisco, the notorious party street. It was actually pretty quiet, it seems that Arequipans tend to stay in on weeknights. However, we found a busy bar with a GREAT Peruvian cover band, playing great American rock n roll hits. It pretty much made my night to hear such classics as 'I Love Rock n Roll' and 'California Girls' sung by 4 tiny Peruvian men with extremely serious expressions in VERY distinct Spanish accents. I also had my first Pisco Sour in Peru! Dad, yours were pretty darn close to the real thing-- all that research paid off :)
I was planning on going to another museum this afternoon, but I'm feeling a little under the weather... my stomach is not exactly normal. Nothing to be too worried about, but a little rest is probably a good idea. More to come!

Arequipa, again...

OKAY. I am going to try to some kind of a more cohesive post this time, as I was too busy yesterday trying to catch up with people to really write very much about anything important... So here´s what I´ve got!
There are so many things whirling through my head that it is difficult to put them down in any kind of semblance of order. But I´ll do my best...
Arequipa continues to be hospitable, and my family continues to be lovely. I feel as at home as someone can feel in another family´s house... it is often awkward, but for the most part I am included and they are so kind to me, which I couldn´t be more grateful for. Even with my terrible Spanglish, Maria attempts to make conversation with me at least a few times a day, and other times just talks at me, which I appreciate more than she knows! This leads me to one of the more amusing things about travel... which is that it is so much like improv. In that you are CONSTANTLY doing a HUGE 'yes, and...' For example... I think that I got invited to go with the family on a 4 day fiesta in the countryside, at an abuela´s home. I understood that there would be cockfighting, bullfighting, lots of drinking (mas cervesas!) and I would share a bed with Olga, my host sister. However, I have no idea when this is happening, and I also have no idea why it is happening. But really, there is no other options on voyages like this than to say 'yes!' and just go with it. So, if I disappear for a few days, you can imagine me drinking cervesas and pisco sours, while people throw money at fighting roosters and dance to crazy Peruvian music. I also find myself making up the details of stories that I hear. Maria talks to me as though I understand, and I will catch a few words here and there, but then I have to fill in the blanks. Last night we went to a basketball game at Olga´s school (more sports) and I could have sworn that Maria told me that she had a pet pelican when she was young that she raised until she was 15. It was only today, during my Spanish lesson, that I finally figured out that 'pelicula' is actually the word for movie... Oops! I also think that I ate something last night that was 'meat of the heart,' but I will never know if that was really what she said. Still, it makes life exciting!
School is exhausting. It is slightly like being in a chair of interrogation for 4 hours straight every morning. My brain is stretching in ways that it hasn´t in a loooong time. It feels good, but I can´t believe how exhausting it is. Today I swear I could actually feel the cogs attempting to turn while I was having my grammar lesson with Pepe, and they felt VERY rusty. My mind feels like a sieve, I retain information for the moment, but the next day it is gone. I just have to trust that it is in there somewhere and will eventually come out. Private tutoring is certainly the way to go, though. I can never let down my guard, because I´m always in the spotlight. It´s hard, but I think I will learn more that way, as well.
Arequipa itself is so beautiful. I walked around the city a bit yesterday later in the afternoon, and saw the mercado-- totally stunning. It is a HUGE warehouse like building stuffed to the gills with everything imaginable. Row after row of vibrant fruits piled sky high, meat of every variety hanging from hooks. I want to go back and explore furthur, but it is kind of a sensory overload. I have three weeks here, so I´ll try to do it little by little.
OK. As requested, I´m posting some photos. The first two are from El Parque de l'Amor in Lima, the third is me sitting on my bed in Arequipa (you can basically see the whole room in that photo... ha) and the last is a photo from the bridge by my house in Arequipa, with El Misti the volcano watching over the city. 

Arequipa

After a 19 hour bus ride, I made it!
I haven´t been on the internet for about 5 days, so it´s a weird feeling trying to catch up on emails and correspondance... plus I am still just kind of overwhelmed and exhausted by everything in general.
My host mother picked me up from the bus station yesterday, and took me home. She is fantastic. Her name is Maria, and she is the most warm, welcoming and kind person (at least so far!)-- she told me multiple times how welcome I was, to make myself at home, and that I should treat her as my mother. I also have two siblings, Olga, who is 15, and Guillermo, or Gilles, who is 22. They are also both extremely welcoming, smart, and kind. None of them really speak English, which is good for me! Yesterday afternoon was a whirlwind... Maria took Olga and I out to lunch (fried chicken... and rice... for some reason no matter where I go I can´t escape the oil!) and then we went home for just enough time for me to shower, before I went off with them to Guillermo´s soccer game, then to a volleyball game. It was kind of a whirlwind, and I really had no idea what was happening most of the time. I got kissed on the cheek by about 10,000 people who I assume were relatives...
First day of classes was this morning. It was good, if A LOT of information. I have two teachers, one for conversation, and one for grammar. I totally forget the name of the conversation teacher (oops!) but she is lovely, soft spoken and very kind. My grammar teacher is one of the owners of the school, Pepe. He is an interesting man... I think he may have been high for our entire lesson, but he seems competant enough. Also funny. I still speak in French every time I try to say anything in Spanish, so hopefully that will get better!
More later... my internet time is running out!

From Miami to Lima

Buenos dias, mis amigos.
I am here. I am alive. I have not been robbed (yet) and I´ve not even made that big of a fool of myself (although dropping all my change in the grocery store yesterday evening was thrilling. Oy vey.)
What a bizarre experience it is, arriving in such a new and different place all alone. The heart and mind are so vulnerable, and all you want to do is curl up into your skin like a shell. But every single facade, every protection that you are used to invoking under these circumstances, is useless. Language is nonexistant, intonation may mean something else, wit and intelligence go by the wayside, and you have to smile and laugh and gesture like an idiot until someone understands. Relying on strangers, reaching out, is the last thing you want to do and yet it is necessary. I think for me, this is both the most terrifying and most exhilirating facet of travel. As someone who sometimes even has trouble even in my own language reaching out to strangers for help, it is utterly jarring to have to do it when I am completely and totally at their mercy. But so empowering when it pays off....
Okay, so, Miami. I spent one day wandering around, and went to the airport early on the second day because I had formed my opinion which was that: I had seen enough fake blondes, tans, and bottom halves of ass cheeks to last me for a while. Ok, the Art Deco architecture was kind of cool, but I can only handle so much pastel teal and coral in such a condensed amount of time.
Then the plane, and then a slightly harried few minutes before my taxi driver showed up, and then a ride into the night of Lima...
On that taxi ride, I saw a good bit of the city, which is (as people told me) huge, dirty, and not so attractive. However, my hostel is located in a lovely part of the city called Miraflores. And by lovely, I mean rich. Which is kind of weird... there´s even a Starbucks.
Things I have done, and seen in no particular order:
Took a taxi to the bus depot to buy my ticket for tonight. Bargained in Español. Huge achievement!
Walked to the coast, which is only a few blocks away. There is a gorgeous park there called Parque de l'Amour, which is presided over by a HUGE statue of a man and woman entertwined, and surrounded by gorgeous and colorful mosaic walls. I had a looooong conversation with a Peruvian necklace sellar about women (ha!) but managed to escape without getting hit on too much.
Went to the outdoor crafts market. Want to buy EVERYTHING.
Watched some live theater in the park across the street. Understood about 2 words, but there was a man in drag and a puppet that danced to Eye of the Tiger, so I was sold.
Made friends with my Danish roommate, and went to the movies. It was great... they are just like the American movies (with Spanish subtitles) but about 10 times cheaper.
Today I'm heading downtown to the Art Museum, then this evening I catch the bus to Arequipa. I'll be getting there around noon tomorrow, and my host family is picking me up from the bus station. Slight terror...
Muchos besos y abrazos. I miss you all.

Pre Departure

It's 2 days (ish) until takeoff, and I still haven't really registered that I'm leaving. I wish I had something deep and introspective to say, but my mind mostly fluctuates between blank and things like "universal sink plug, I need to get one of those" or "hmmm... what should I have for lunch today?" Perhaps when I get on the plane, the panic and excitement will flood in. Or maybe not. I am excited, and I am scared, but it's all sort of in a detached, floaty way.
For those of you who haven't heard the update, here's what I have planned so far:
Fly out of Seattle Tuesday night.
One day layover in Miami (staying in a hostel on South Beach... woo!)
Fly into Lima, Peru Thursday evening.
Spend 2 nights in Lima (in Miraflores, a residential neighborhood which I've heard is the only reasonably attractive and/or safe part of Lima. We'll see...)
Take the overnight bus Saturday evening to Arequipa, where I will be picked up by my host family on Sunday morning and transported to their lovely abode.
Spend 3 weeks in Arequipa going to Juanjo Spanish School and living with my host family. Hopefully becoming competent or at least passable in the Spanish language.
Machu Picchu. I'm hoping to do one of the week-ish long treks up to the site, but we'll see what I can find that is a) not exorbitantly expensive and b) available when I get to Cusco.
After that, it's all kind of up in the air, with the exception of the first week in December when I will be joined by the lovely Miss Annie Hughes in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
I'll try and keep you all updated here regularly, but please don't hesitate to email me! I will miss each and every one of you, and it's always nice to hear what's happening at home.
Hasta luego y muchos abrazos.