As is above, so below.

From salsa lessons to herding sheep and shaving alpacas, I've been playing and living the life. Of course I am technically doing the school thing here, so I'm learning a lot too. My Spanish skills are still laughable, and being able to say more than "How are you?" and "See you tomorrow" in Quechua by the time this is over is seemingly close to impossible. But instead I'm learning things here in Perú that I thought I had already known.

I've always been fascinated by the way thoughts, ideas, and lives interconnect. This is a concept that has been staring me in the face since I've stepped off the plane in Lima. For example, there are two people here in my program that go to the same college back home, yet they had never met eachother until arriving in Perú. It seems to me that the chances of meeting someone on a tiny New England campus after 3 years of attending are a little higher than a small study abroad program in Cusco, Perú. But even further, these two people are friends and classmates with one of my boyfriend's roommates in Rome, Italy. Really, what are the chances? I met a Peruvian man on the bus yesterday who has a brother who lives in Tulsa, OK. I was skeptical until he told me that he really misses Ron's hamburgers and wishes there was a restaurant like that here in Cusco.

Its things like this that remind me that no matter how much I wish I was at times, I'm not some independent individual living a separate life from the people around me. Instead, I am part of a giant web that connects in places around the corner and literally across the world. I can't help but believe that this network goes beyond friendships and relationships and extends through our actions. I learned in 7th grade science class that every force creates a cause and effect. Of course at this time, I grasped that concept more simply such as if i push a needle through this balloon, it will pop. But as I experience more, I am able to realize that every thing that I do affects you and every thing that you do affects me. No matter where I am.

Because in reality, people aren't all that different. Here I am in the Southern hemisphere very far from home and everything that I've known before, but I'm able to live my life here as I would there more or less. This was the case even when I was literally in the middle of nowhere, Perú living with an indigenous farming family for a week. I was stressed. What could I possbily have in common with this family of alpaca farmers? Not the same language, not the same lifestyle, and definitely not the same sleeping habits. But there were more similarities than I had expected. The children graciously thanked their mother for all of her work after meals, the oldest daughter was in a fight with her boyfriend until he brought over a bouquet of freshly picked yellow flowers from the mountainside (which the mother quickly transformed into a sweet, fragrant tea), the parents stressed over money, and the dog wasn't allowed in the kitchen during meal times. All of these things were familiar to me although I had expected to live a completely foreign life. But most important to me, we laughed the same. The grandmother would make jokes about how old and forgetful her husband was getting and we would laugh together. Despite the ever present language barrier and my lack of farm skills, we lived with human similaries that defy all borders.

I wear a brighly beaded hair wrap that reaches to my belly button. On the bottom dangles a bronze charm of a starfish, a symbol that helps me to remember what I am learning. An interconnectness exists between all things far and near, living or inert. Just as there are stars as far our means extend to the sky, there are stars as low as our reach can take us to the bottom of the ocean. As is above, so below.

Vida es bueno.

In the lottery of host families, I hit the jackpot. They are young, beautiful, and so in love. My host mom just turned 30 and is 5 months pregnant. When she was working, she was a teacher for a modern kindergaten where she used a hands-on, active teaching style with her little ones. She is perfect for me because I speak just like her 4 year olds and she is used to desiphering jibberish. My host dad is an adorable little round faced man who loves soccer. He is an engineer, and designs machinery to use in the andean mines. They have been married three years and are anxiously awaiting their first child who they just found out last week is a girl. Lucky.

They like talking to me and ask me a lot of questions about Oklahoma. They love the fact that we have indigenous people there like they do here. They are always very nice and patient and just sarcastic enough to keep things interesting. They know when to give me my space though, which apparently is rare among Peruvian host families. A few of my friends are struggling to find time to themselves with their over-eager or over-demanding families. I haven´t had one single problem with mine.

I´m starting to get to know Cusco a little better and I love it. It was wonderful and much needed to see some familiar faces on Skype last night, but I´m not homesick yet. I am so happy here.


I have class now, but I have much more to say so check back for an update later!

Last night I slept on a island in lake Titicaca

but the best part was (other than the monsterous South American spider waiting for me on my pillow) that the island was made of reeds and floated. For some reason, people post-Inca times preferred to construct these floating islands and live on the lake instead of solid land. Its hard to blame them. Lake Titicaca is beautiful and plays a huge part in connecting with ancestors past, and is often called the Lake of Spirits. I was really looking forward to having a dream with messages from the other side but to no avail. I wrote everything down I could remember just in case there was some hidden messages that just aren´t clear yet, but I have my doubts.

Before we slept, the family that was hosting us on the island and my group exchanged songs from our countries. I got the goosebumps when they sang in their native language about importance and their appreciation of the lake on which they lived. We relpied with a Britney Spears song. I was ashamed.

I have to go to school now. That seems weird considering I haven´t been to a class in about 2 months. I´m actually looking forward to the hours of Spanish that are in store for the afternoon. I have so much I want to say to people but I don´t know the words. That seems to be a common theme here in Peru. There are no words to describe.

Machupinchme

Machupicchu is the most incredible place Ive ever seen. The ruins were cool, but the hour and a half trainride through the jungle to the mountain was more impressive. After a Spanish tour through the ruins we took a hike to the Ican Sungate. It was absolutely breathtaking. I mean this literally, I was gasping for air like a fish out of water in the attempt to climb ancient stone steps laid by Incans in a time that I can´t imagine existing. When we finally reached the top it was more than worth it. Words cant describe, so I wont try. Ive seen some beautiful views in my life, but this tops all. Andes mountains as far as you can see until they disappeared into the clouds, untouched waterfalls pouring into a river below, and a flawless stone structure to rest on and take it all in.

I took part in a ceremony of gratitude for Mother Earth by saying a quick prayer and a swig of wine after pouring a drop into the earth. I have no doubt that my prayer was heard because if its true that Heaven is a place located in the clouds, I was knocking right next door.

I found internet access outside next to the cactus.

Peru gets cooler the more I get to know her (Obviously Peru is female). I woke up early this morning to the sound of my poor roommate throwing up. By the sounds I heard I thought she was running a bath. I sat outside with a cup of coffee and watched the fog lift from the mountaintops while jotting a few goals down in my journal.

Goal #1: Make a 4.0
Goal #2: Leave this place not feeling like a tourist.
ect.

(I tried to upload some pictures here but the connection just wouldn't allow it)

Yesterday we had an assignment to make a dish out of an assigned food. My group of 3 got the pepper. We walked down the stone road to the plaza and attempted to find the market on our own to no avail. Finally we asked an older woman wearing a tan top hat who was selling peanuts from the sidewalk where the market was. She pointed, and we bought a bag of red peanuts.

6 chili peppers, 7 carrots, 2 onions, 3 eggs, two handfuls of peas, a bag of flour=4 soles. $1.30

When we got back our director was a little disappointed that we let the women in the market take advantage of us like that. We should have gotten a much better deal on those eggs.

Our dish was a disaster of course, but that is beside the point.

It is interesting to see the differences of standards between Peru and the US as far as sanitation goes. The market was absolutely beautiful with carts full of brightly colored fruit whose names I could not pronounce, and piles of potatoes as tall as the stalky women who sell them. But the meat. The meat for sale is literally half of an animal hanging from a hook and covered in flies in which the men chop off the requested amount and toss into a plastic bag. It looks like its been there for days. My friends and I couldn't stop staring at the blood drip to the floor as a man sawed at a piece of beef to sell. We gagged and moved on to the veggies.

But the chicken for dinner tonight was delicious.

PERU IS REAL!

Well pals it looks like I finally made it! Flying all day and night was not pleasant, but I met some pretty interesting people in the process including a Chilean man who complimented my Spanish skills, an Argentine guy my age who laughed when I attempted to share travel stories in his language (he soon grew tired of trying to figure out what I was saying and put on headphones), and a herd of senior citizens wearing bright Hawaiian shirts and name tags around their necks that said in big red letters "South American Trek Team".

When I finally made it out of the doors at the Cusco airport I had a heart attack. I opened the doors to find this place that I dreamed up in my head anxiously awaiting my arrival. I was offered a small bag of cocoa leaves, a wide brimmed hat, and an awe-inspiring view of carpeted mountains in every shade of green you can imagine. I only accepted the latter.

Next thing I know I'm being put on a bus to a town called Urabamba. My new friends all fell asleep instantly (the luckiest of us had only been traveling for 13 hours) but I pried my eyes open long enough to see women carring infants in blankets of bright colors, men keeping a watchful eye on their pigs that are about to step into the oncoming traffic, and a little boy pee into a pile of thoughtlessly discarded garbage.

The houses are Tiffany's green but definitely don't share the same level of elegance. People were living in constructions that I thought were surely debris from a bad storm that must have ripped through the mountainside. But there was no storm, and those shanty towns are what these people call casa. I can't help but think that they aren't too concerned about what their shelter looks like, because their backyard is a true paradise.

We did some exploring, some napping, some orienting. The town is bustling with kids whizzing by on their bikes, homeless dogs hunting for some leftovers, and men in little buses trying to convince you that you want to go wherever their bus is headed.

Now the mountains are black against the dark blue sky. They look like sleeping giants, and I'm pretending that they are my protectors sleeping right outside to keep the mosquitoes at bay.

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this is a test.