la primera semana

I have made it safely to Cusco and have been here for less than a week. It seems a lot longer though, because everything is new and beautiful and nothing comes easy. We walk down streets not paying attention to sidewalks or branches, but when nothing is what we’ve known it to be and everything is what it wasn’t, we notice everything with the huge-eyed interest and curiosity of infants. The air, the landscape, the people, every word, every fruit, every supermarket receipt is not what I am used to. And so, my past five days have been filled with details and particles of ideas so that it feels like I have been here at least ten or even fifteen days.

The flight sucked, mostly. Actually, I shouldn’t say that. The flight was very long and I was very tired. I talked to a couple people during the various flights and a nice guy named Carlos, who is from Peru, (frumperoo) gave me some tips on touring the country and going to places that most tourists overlook. I had a seven-hour layover in Lima and that is why I initially said the flight sucked. I couldn’t sleep so I just walked up and down the corridors with a cup of coffee, sometimes taking a rest next to the other people lying on the floor trying to sleep, and reading my Spanish phrasebook.

The flight into Cusco was probably the most beautiful flight I’ve been on. We took off at six and flew over the mountains of Peru as the sun came up. Everything was a flaming explosion of color, and there were huge oceans of cloud resting in the valleys of the snow-topped mountains. We’d swoop in huge curves, leaning almost completely sideways so we could see the sun over the little anthill pueblos. Some people were sleeping and I felt sorry for them because no dream could have been as beautiful, but I didn’t wake them up because I didn’t know them.

My host family drove me around the city and showed me a few points of interest or reference before going to my new house in Marcaballe on La Avenida Gastón Zapata. My house is very nice and old, with hardwood floors laid out in beautiful patterns. I live right next to a huge playground with slides that are sculpted to look like serpents and dragons. There is a man that pushes a cart of fruit up and down the street every day. He has a microphone and every day I can hear him yelling “Platanos, Manzanas, papayas!” Today, somebody is playing some Andean music and I can hear it coming in through the balcony.

I have class every day of the week from 3:30 to 7:10, and next week I will add on an additional class from 9:00 to 1:00. I have been exploring a lot and sleeping a lot in order to acclimate to the altitude. I went to the Plaza de Armas today and looked into all of the shops and almost got attacked by a massage therapist. That may have been a good thing. I've got to catch a taxi home to the Marcaballe.

Buenas noches.