Castellano (pronounced Castezhano)

It's been a while and there is a lot to catch up on. First, Buenos Aires- it's big and there is a lot to do. It's a pretty cool city and in 5+ days there I was barely able to scratch the surface. We went to the Argentina vs. Uruguay World Cup Qualifier last Saturday and had a blast. The atmosphere was tremendous, with a lot of chanting and cheering throughout the entire match. Much like in college football (USC 69 - Wazzou 0... are you serious?) the fans stand for most of the game. The game itself was pretty good (2-1 Argentina win) but the Argentines thought it was boring and not a good effort. They proceded to lose to Chile 0-1 on Wednesday and their coach was shown the door. They don't mess around with their futbol.

I've been in Bariloche for the last 3 days. It is a gorgeous city and is full of life despite the heavy tourist vibe. It lies on a glacial lake surrounded by the Andes, making it a very popular destination for outdoors enthusiasts (me). I've gone hiking, biking and ziplining so far and I plan to go rafting either tomorrow or the day after. I thought 3 days here would be enough, but I've decided to make this my only stop in the southern regions of Argentina. It's just too big of a country to cover quickly and I don't have enough time to make it work. After spending 22 hours on a bus to get down here, the last thing I want to do is get on another bus for a full day.
Anyway, the purpose of this post, and the reason it is titled as such, is to discuss the language that the Argentines speak. It's technically Spanish though they call it Castellano (apparently Español is something completely different), and it's actually closer to the spanish that is spoken in Spain than Spanish spoken in other parts of Latin America. There are 2 major differences between Argentine Spanish and the Spanish that I learned in school, the first is that the double L produces the "zh" sound and not the "yuh" sound that I have grown accustomed to using. Not a major difference on the surface, but it can definitely throw me off when trying to comprehend someone giving me directions at a thousand words per minute. The second big difference is the use of an informal tense known as vos. This is not the vosotros that I learned in Spanish class (that's only used in Spain, and rarely) it is it's own tense with it's own congugations. Instead of using tu or usted, they use vos. Here is an example of a question I was asked using vos: ¿De donde vos? That is supposed to mean: where are you from? The congugation of vos is very simple in that it absolutely eliminates irregulars, for example if you are asking someone if they have milk you would ask: ¿Tenes leche? That's right, no I in tenes.

Needless to say, the language has thrown me for a bit of a loop. I'm getting by though. I'm officially down to 2 weeks left. We've entered the home-stretch. I hope you enjoyed your little Spanish, I mean Castellano, lesson. Next time you run into an Argentine, drop the vos and they will be quite impressed. Off to climb a mountain or something fun like that.

Organizational Skills

I will be the first to admit that my organizational skills are lackluster at best. That being said, it is hard to imagine a place where organization matters less than it does in Peru. My case study for this post is our recent trip to Machu Picchu, where if something needed to be organized, it probably wasn't.After Chad finally recovered from his 3 day bout with food-poisoning, we took off on Thursday morning to begin our 4-day trek to Machu Picchu. We arrived at the travel office at 7:30 AM as requested, only to be greeted by a locked door. After waiting around for 15 minutes, I went up the street to a pay-phone to call the main office and figure out what is going on. Of course, nobody answered the phone. At 7:55 the lady who ran our office came running up the stairs of our street and appologized profusely for being late. She then loaded us in a cab that took us around the block to another travel company where we waited to be picked up by our bus.
After about 20 more minutes of waiting, we were finally loaded into a bus that read Conde Travel (our company was Peruvian Viajes and had guarenteed that they were the operators, not just a booking agency). We were off and running on our grand adventure to Machu Picchu and despite a few organizational glitches, we figured we were in for fairly smooth sailing.

Things went smoothly for about the next hour and a half. When we arrived at the pass where we were to begin our 4 hour bike-ride into the town of Santa Maria we were greeted with a loud clap of thunder that rumbled for a good 20 seconds. Athena, our fellow adventurer from the Great White North proudly proclaimed that it sounded like the dynamite they use to set off avalanches. (Tangent: Athena officially cured me of any desire to be considered a Canadian while traveling. I mean, really? Why do people think that it is always the Americans who are loud and stupid? She was an endless source of unintentional humor and nearly drove many of us to jump off of the trail from several thousand feet up. And her laugh. Wow.) Anyway, the thunder was a sign of things to come in terms of the weather as we rode down the mountain. It could also be considered a sign of things to come for the organization of this trip.

First, the bikes. I like to ride bikes, so I was very happy that the first day consisted of a bike ride into our first town. I should say that I like to ride bikes that like to be ridden. My bike didn't. First, my helmet was too small (great for a rainy day while going down a mountain facing the same drivers I've already discussed!); second, the gears didn't work (the big gear at the front of the chain wouldn't go onto the biggest wheel) so peddaling was sure fun; third the wheels both felt like they were about to fall off. All-in-all, good, safe fun!

Despite these issues, and issues with just about every other bike, we all made it down the mountain safely. Day one was a success!

Things actually went very smoothly from here until Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu, so I will now jump ahead.
We arrived in Aguas Calientes after 2 days of hiking following our day on the bike. When we get into town we were going to put our stuff in our hostel and then grab some lunch. The problem? We didn´t have a hostel for everyone to stay in. Oops. Then, after roaming around the town or climbing up a big mountain with a view of Machu Picchu (I chose the former because I was tired) we grabbed dinner. It was at dinner where it really hit the fan. After enjoying a lovely dinner with our fellow travelers, we were told that there was a slight problem with our train reservations back to Cusco the next day (cue Ian Faith in This is Spinal Tap) ¨How slight?¨
Well, there were NO reservations for anybody. We found this a bit odd seing as how we were told that they needed several days to make the reservations for the train. By not having them the day before we were to leave was a pure case of organizational ineptitude. We were also told that we may have to come back down from Machu Picchu at 12 the next day to catch a 2:00 train (enter classic Sean blow up). I made sure that our guide knew that this was completely unacceptable and that one of the major reasons for my traveling to South America was to see Machu Picchu. I would be damned if I was forced to leave early because he messed up our train reservations.
Things eventually died down and we had a lovely day at Machu Picchu despite our guide for the day pulling us out of line when we were in the top 100 people there (top 25 for Me and Cole); almost making us miss the climb to Wayna Picchu. Again, organization people.
Off to explore Bs As. Stay safe.

-Sean

¡Gringo-mania! aka My First 2 days in Cusco

So, I realize it's been a while and I have a lot of catching up to do.

First things first; an addendum to the crazy drivers post. I was scheduled to leave Lima on Saturday morning at 5:50 AM. We got a cab to the airport at 4:15, giving me plenty of time to make it to the airport at 4:50 before they closed the flight... or so we thought. Our cabbie was a typical Peruvian driver, running red lights (often without even slowing down), honking constantly and swerving through lanes at rates of speed that made the ''Days of Thunder'' ride at King's Dominion feel like a walk in the park. He actually stopped at one red light, where he proceded to fall asleep. Awesome. Anyway, about 5 blocks from the airport, he pulls over with a flat left front tire. He wanted to change it there and take us to the airport, but we realized that we didn't have time for this. We proptly grabbed our bags and walked/jogged the rest of the way to the airport.

I made it to the gate at 4:55 and they tell me I am too late. I pled with the people at the check-in for 20 minutes to no avail. I am told I will have to reschedule my flight for tomorrow as TACA doesn't have any more flights to Cusco that day (It's only the most popular flight in Peru). I decided that this was unacceptable and went over to LAN airlines to buy a flight that day. I was very surprised to learn that flights on LAN were less expensive the day of travel than they were online 3 weeks before. The moral of the story: don't plan ahead.
Upon arrival in Cusco, the lack of air hits you like a sledge-hammer to the chest. Cusco's altitude is 10900 feet, which is a big difference from sea level in Lima. Fortunately the airport kindly hands out Mate de Coca, or Coca Tea. If you are unaware of Mate de Coca, it is a tea made from the leaves of the coca plant. It is a natural remedy for altitude sickness that has been used for thousands of years by the Incas and their ancestors. Yes, coca is the same plant that is used to make cocaine, but cocaine comes from the root of the plant and is a highly refined drug. Mate de Coca simply uses the dried leaves of the plant. It works wonders.

Now, on to my adventures in Cusco. As those of you who read Chad's blog are all-to-aware, I had a slight case of travelers gut on my last day in Lima. Well, karma is a bitch. Chad has been down for the count since Sunday night, though he is beginning to feel better today. (Editor's note: if you don't want every last detail of Chad's own illness, you may not want to read his next couple of posts). His being sick has forced me to step well outside of my comfort zone and do things on my own and meet fellow travellers. And have I ever.
Sunday, when Chad began to feel sick, I grabbed dinner with a few friends we had made the day before. Paul and Daphne are Canadians who are traveling with an American named Lauren and an Irishman named Maghnus (pronounced man-us). They are great people who are currently doing the Inka Jungle Trail trek that Chad and I will be doing whenever he can actually get out of bed. They actually invited us to come along with them, but we weren't able to book the same trip as them, which turned out to be a stroke of good luck for Chad. They were leaving early the next morning, so we all decided to call it an early evening.

Monday, I went down to central Cusco in search of a book and something to do while Chad lay in bed. At the bookstore I met Julia from the Netherlands. She is traveling through South America while on her Gap Year before attending university to study medicine. She invited me to Bungee jump with her and a couple of her friends, but I decided it would be best to go check on Chad.

That afternoon, I returned to the Plaza de Armas to purchase some post cards and do more sight seeing. While on a side-street near the plaza I was asked by a couple of Peruvian teenage girls if they could take a picture with me, the gringo. I obliged and was shocked to discover that these two teenage girls became a MOB of teenagers and their mothers. They all wanted pictures with me and I probably took 30 or so pictures with them. I have never experienced something so surreal in my life. Next, the teenage boys they were with wanted a picture with me as they were making fun of the girls' fascination with the gringo. Jokingly I asked the guys, "ahh gustan los gringos?" They loved it and complimented me on my Spanish (Castiliano). For about 5 minutes, I felt like a celebrity. It was fun for a while, but it got annoying. I don't know how they do it. It was seriously Gringo-mania, with touching and poking and everything. My stuff is still on me, so I actually think they were fascinated with a white guy and not trying to rob me (gotta be safe).

That's enough for this post. There should be another one this afternoon. More people and more stories. Machu Picchu (finally) tomorrow.

-Sean

Drivers in South America

Since Chad´s blog is wonderfully encapsulating our goings on throughout our trip, I´ve decided to make mine more observatory. (Check out Chad´s blog at http://realtravel.com/south_america-trips-i7689823.html )

My first observation, without a doubt, is that the drivers in South America (at least in Peru) are INSANE. There is really no other way to describe it. Stoplights, stop signs and lane lines must exist merely for decorative purposes, as they are heeded rarely. This makes being a pedestrian quite a challenge. Though I have nearly perfected Jay-walking in Washington, DC; it is truly an artform in Peru as it is the only reliable means of crossing the street without getting tagged by an 80´s model Peugeot.

This discussion on driving leads me to our recent 3 day trip to Huancayo,

an Andean Highlands town with about 300,000 people located about 6-9 hours away from Lima depending on traffic and the sanity level of your bus driver. Our bus ride to Huancayo was uneventful and took just over our expected traveling time of 7 hours. Our ride home, however, was slightly more hair-raising. Chad and I were sitting near the front of the second level of our bus, giving us a great view of the surrounding countryside and also allowing us to see well beyond our driver´s line of sight. Apparently, our driver REALLY wanted to get back to Lima. He decided it was in our best interests to pass semi´s while going down steep mountain roads on hair pin turns with traffic coming right at us.

On several occasions we were forced to return to our proper lane due to buses and other large vehicles rapidly moving in our direction. On several occasions, our bus driver ignored the blaring horns and continued to go down the mountain in the wrong lane as if it were his God-given right. And on at least 2 occasions we were sure that we would crash and end our trip a little earlier than expected by tumbling down the large mountain slopes directly to our right. Needless to say, we were more than pleased to arrive in Lima in one piece.

At least we´re flying to Cusco.

¡Bienvenidos a Peru!

I took off on Sunday, September 21 with nothing but a backpack, hoping to explore as much of South America as I could in 6 short weeks. I sat in the second-to-last row on the flight from Atlanta to Lima, which took about 6 hours. On the flight I visited with the couple sitting next to me who happened to be from Harrisburg, PA. They are in South America to visit Machu Picchu and the Galapagos Islands. I am very jealous that they get to see the Galapagos.

I landed in Lima at about 11:00 PM local time (Midnight on the East Coast), and cleared customs with no problems. I then met up with Chad Thurman, one of my best friends from USC who is traveling with me for the entire trip.

We asked the customer service counter at the airport how much a cab would be to our hotel and they informed us that it would cost 150 Soles (the current exchange rate is approximately 3 Soles for $1 American). We suspected we could do better on the street, so we grabbed our stuff and asked the first cabbie we found what the price would be to get us to our hotel. 50 Soles later we wre on our way to the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Miraflores (Thank you to Chad´s Dad for hooking us up with that one).
On Monday we awoke to grey skies and the sound of hundreds of car horns. We decided to explore our neighborhood and grab a bite to eat around noon. We left the hotel with no map and no real idea as to where we were going. We walked around for about 20 minutes enjoying the hustle and bustle of Miraflores. As we wandered down a small residential street, Chad commented that one of his favorite thing about traveling was getting lost and immersing himself in the day-to-day culture of wherever it is he is visiting. I agreed without hesitation.

As we grew hungrier, we asked a local security guard where we could find the best place to eat in town in our best broken Spanish. He rapidly replied that we needed to go about 2 blocks down the street we were on, make a left turn and go about 4 blocks further before going under an underpass. W thanked him and left to find where he had described. As we walked Chad and I were both very pleased with how well we understood him despite not having taken Spanish for several years. Finding the mall he described was our first major success in Peru. We were off and running.

-Sean