Despite the odds, I'm still alive.

Ok, let me preface this by saying that I am in no way complaining or looking for pity points. If anything we should all laugh because the story I am about to share is pretty ridiculous. I promised no excessively long posts, so I'm going to break this up a little.

I say goodbye to my host family, and lug my thousand pound suitcase to the bus that is waiting outside. The whole gang is headed on our longest excursion yet: Lima for 8 days, Iquitos and the Amazon jungle for 7. I had my water purification tablets and Lunabars (just in case I got lost in the jungle for a few days), a huge first aid kit, poison in the disguise of insect repellent, Malaria pills, and a wardrobe of sun protective clothing that would never be fashionably acceptable in any other part of the world except the Amazon. I was prepared.

So we get to Lima and I'm not impressed. Its just like any other big American city. It was nice at first to finally see all those American brands that we had missed so much. There was an organic grocery store, movie theaters, casinos, trash cans, all things that none of us had seen in quite some time. But in general, I just wasn't feeling the vibe of the city. However, as anyone from a landlocked state like Oklahoma will tell you, when there is a beach - no matter how ugly, rocky, and simply unattractive it is - you go. And you like it.

In our true American manner though, we didn't have to settle for the dirty Lima beach. No, we hopped on our bright red Mercedes tour bus and drove down the coast a few hours to a huge, beautiful private beach house that sat only a few steps down a stone staircase from the water. Jackpot. We claimed beds, threw on our suits, and ran barefoot down to the sand. There was no one on the beach but us. We splashed around and dove under waves until the sun went down. There was one point right before sunset when I stopped to look around me and appreciate where I was. I was with good friends in a beautiful place. I felt truly happy.

Unfortunately, I took too much of a good thing and made it into a horrible, unbearably painful sunburn. The whole next day we spent lounging on beach towels, running back and forth to the ocean to refresh ourselves. I, as an avid shade lover, am ashamed to say that I failed to factor in the fact that the sun's rays are quite a bit stronger here into my sunscreen regimen. I didn't realize I was baking myself until it was too late. I was extra crispy.

Back in the hostel in Lima, every motion that I made had to have purpose or it wasn't even worth it. My gals and I lied on our beds moaning and groaning and constantly comparing much pain we were in. Aloe was useless, and melted instantly against our lobster red skin. We slept on top of our blankets because the pressure of even the lightest sheet was too much. We couldn't sit down, we couldn't stand up, we could barely wear clothes at all. We were in bad shape, and the upcoming plane ride to Iquitos sounded like torture. Little did I know what was in store.

Iquitos is a hot, sticky town that sits right on the river and can only be accessed by boat or plane. Everyone drives motorcycles, and the bustle of the streets is loud and constant. I limped my way from the small Iquitos airport to our next hostel where we found air conditioning. We cranked up the cold air on high blast in hopes of relief from our burning skin, and I decided that is what Heaven must feel like. We were off to a good start in Iquitos. It felt good to be out of Lima.

In all of the guidebooks (so Ive been told. I have yet to open mine.) a community named Belen in Iquitos is a must-see. It is described as beautiful waterfront property, and houses that rest on stilts in the river. We were told of the market of Belen, a place where you could find local vendors selling fresh fruits from the jungle and every trinket you may need for your trip. We had a free day and decided to go check it out.

Lies.

Belen is the slums. By beautiful waterfront property, they meant shacks made from floatwood that were falling into the heavily polluted, murky river. In the market, we were literally ankle deep in soggy, rotting garbage. And the smell. I can't even describe the smell. I didn't like it there at all. They didn't like us there either, and within 5 minutes the incident happened.


...to be continued.