Road Rage

I have never willingly put myself through such constant physical discomfort as I have by braving the cars, vans, and buses in Peru. I think by now you all understand that I am much, much taller than my Peruvian counterparts. My legs are literally twice as long as some of the women I know here. It’s silly that I even try to fit into Peruvian-sized spaces, but when the alternative is staying in Huaca Rajada indefinitely, you better believe I’ll squeeze myself into the first thing with wheels that’s headed west.

 Terminal Epsel, Chiclayo: organized chaos.

Taxis are ubiquitous in all Peruvian cities. In Chiclayo, both mototaxis and ticos are popular and cheap ways to get around. A mototaxi is a similar to a rickshaw but with a small motorcycle for power, usually steered by a 15-year-old boy. As with all things wheeled here, there are varying degrees of luxury and age. Roads are rough and bikes and cars take a beating. Shocks are pretty much non-existent and we ride low to the ground, which can make for a bone-jarring ride on the best of days. Especially when you’re loaded down with gallons of water, boxes of wine and stacks of books to take back to site.

Ticos are mini-taxis most often seen in northern coastal cities. They’re like a miniature version of a Mini Cooper but a whole lot jankier. I would say they comfortably seat about half a person, but we routinely squeeze four gringo-sized people in there. Anything to save a few centimos (that we then go spend on overpriced and underwhelming pizza). I have ridden with six full-sized adults before, plus the driver. It’s like the circus – how many clowns (Peace Corps volunteers) can we fit in one tiny car?

Looking frightened on one of my first Lima combi rides.

Combis are beat up minivans that run circuitous routes around the cities or shuttle people between the capital city (Chiclayo, for example) and a campo town. Rides can cost anywhere from 50 centimos to 4 soles (one good thing about public transport: it is cheap). The best seat in the front passenger seat but then you have an up close and personal view of the many, many times you almost die in a head-on collision. A combi can comfortably seat eight people but they routinely squeeze up to 15 adults, a slew of nursing babies, and bulging bags of produce and/or livestock. I once rode for two hours with a pig strapped to the roof. That pig seemed to enjoy his trip about as much as I did (side note for all you non-farm dwellers, pigs are extremely loud. Like louder than you’d ever imagine.).

How many Peruvians does it take to change a tire?

Coosters are what I’ve spent a large percentage of my time on these last two years. A cooster is a larger version of a combi, sort of like a public school bus in the States, but much older, more beat up, and all-around horrible. The average trip from Huaca Rajada to Chiclayo takes about an hour-and-a-half, but this can vary depending on a number of factors: road conditions, the driver, passenger weight and cargo, number of stops, flat tires, etc. The best ride I ever had took just under an hour and the worst was upwards of three hours. There’s an art to riding coosters that I’ve finally perfected.

Fun with Peruvians on moving vehicles.

Not even visiting siblings are immune to the joy(e)s of public transportation.

As a tall lady, I initially sought out the aisle seats so as to provide myself with a little extra leg room. This is correct in theory, but as the cars inevitably fill up and all manner of Peruvians squeeze themselves into the aisles, your extra leg room is quickly overtaken by muffin tops, squealing babies, and unsteady drunks. There is no such thing as personal space on a crowded trip. I’ve become intimately acquainted with more strangers than I’d like to recall. No, the best seat is a window seat in the first or second row. The back seats take the brunt of the potholes and it’s nearly impossible to disembark from the back row (picture the gangly gringa literally climbing over seats knocking unsuspecting grandmothers upside the head with giant bottles of water). I wish the pictures I had did better justice to my stories, but the best/worst rides are far too crowded to even think about getting out a camera and snapping a pic. Just trust me when I say it’s a painfully hilarious experience.

Please note the difference between the length of my leg and the back of the seat.

Long-distance buses range from the awful to the luxurious. I once took a 14-hour trip to Lima on a directo bus (i.e. economic) with Papy’s head on my shoulder and my seat unable to recline. That was pretty bad. But on the whole, overnight buses are pretty comfy, especially after two years of practice.  I just bought my LAST BUS TICKET EVER and went for the nicest of the nice – a 180 degree reclining leather seat. I’m giddy.

My typical Peace Corps experience: waiting for a car to anywhere.

I started out this blog post intending to convey how much I hate public transportation, but writing and remembering some of my favorite stories, well, it all seems kind of funny and endearing now. I’m sure this also has something to do with the fact that I have only about two trips left. Hindsight is a funny thing. 

Stranded Solo

Happy 2011! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season with friends and family. I know I did. I was lucky enough to spend the past two weeks in North and South Carolina with some of my most favorite people in the whole wide world. What a difference a year makes! Last Christmas was an eye-opening and gut-checking experience, one that I am extremely grateful for, but one I was happy to put behind me and head north for a traditional Joye family Christmas.

The Joye kids

A white Christmas! A big climate change from northern Peru!

I won't bore you all with the quirky and wonderful family traditions -- we all have them. Suffice to say, I had an amazing trip and was reminded, again, just how fortunate I am. This whole living alone in the middle of nowhere thing really makes you appreciate "normal" life and all the people that create that sense of home for you.

Christmas Eve dinner, a favorite tradition

The girls at FollyFest, a new tradition

Today I find myself in travel limbo, stuck in Ecuador waiting on my bags to catch up with me and an open bus to take me back to Peru. For as much as I harp on about the joys of travel, sometimes it's a huge pain in the ass. Not only was I extremely sad to say good-bye, again, to everyone and everything I love back in the States, but now I'm stranded in a nowhere city unsure of when I can get back to my other home. Or when the pieces of my real home my mother so lovingly packed will find me. It's kind of the last place in the world I want to be and reminds me of one of the worst parts of solo travel -- the unsettling sense of homelessness.

Perfecting the self-portrait during some solo sightseeing around Guayaquil, Ecuador

Luckily, there's an abundance of international hotel chains near the airport that accept Visa. A comfy bed, unlimited wifi and a well-stocked mini bar help ease the pain a bit. What else is a girl to do?

**Update** My bags arrived late last night, after much waiting, eyelash batting, and negotiating to get back into international baggage claim to find my own bag. The Goldfish and homemade banana bread are only slightly worse for the wear, as am I. The interminable journey continues. Huaca Rajada, here I come.

Turkey Trotting

I spent my second, and last, Thanksgiving in Peru on a fantastic journey to the southern highlands of Arequipa. Kim and I ventured down to the Texas of Peru (so called because of their fierce independence and autonomy) for a week filled with beautiful scenery, incredible food, and great company. Thanks so much to John, Kristen, Russ and Jean for their wonderful hospitality!

Plaza de Armas, Arequipa.

We arrived to the white city of Arequipa late in the afternoon. Under fellow volunteer John’s expert tutelage, we still managed to get in about three meals that day, plus several sweet treats. Some ingenious arequipeña created a most delectable desert – queso helado (cheese ice cream). It’s incredibly buttery, velvety, savory and icily cold. I made it a mission to try as much of this ridiculously good dessert as possible. Warning: this entry might include a lot of food talk. We basically ate our way through Arequipa. It was our duty as red-blooded American girls, acknowledging (and exceeding) the time-honored tradition of stuffing yourself silly over Thanksgiving. Anyway, John showed us around the city for two days. Highlights include: go-kart racing at a place that makes Frankie’s Fun Park look downright classy, visiting a hauntingly beautiful convent in the heart of the city, drinking a frog milkshake at the market (yes, a live frog was killed, skinned, sautéed and blended before our very eyes. I have a video if you don’t believe me), feasting on crepes, tacos, stuffed peppers, and generally enjoying what I now consider the prettiest city in Peru.

Frog juice = good for stress.

Santa Catolina convent, Arequipa.

Getting in touch with my artistic side.

Beautiful red walls of the convent.

We headed for Chivay on Thursday to prepare our Thanksgiving feast. Chivay is a district capital and the base for many of the Colca Canyon (deepest canyon in the world) tours. Two volunteers from my training group live in Chivay – the indefatigable Russ and Jean. They graciously opened their house and kitchen to our hungry group and we prepared what can only be described as a feast. We spent hours in the kitchen preparing every traditional dish we could think of, laughing the day away in our borrowed chef’s coats. I’d forgotten how much I’d missed cooking and the fraternal atmosphere of a bustling kitchen. My contribution: heart-cloyingly buttery mashed potatoes and slightly-burnt-but-still-delicious homemade mac ‘n cheese. We had a lovely meal, complete with the vocal stylings of Russ and Jean. I literally had to wheel myself away from the table. So good.

A happy kitchen. (Jess, John, Kim, Russ)

The feast before the starved volunteers descend.

Now that’s a good looking plate.

Instead of hitting the mall on Black Friday, Jean, Kim, Kristen, and I opted to burn some of our Thanksgiving calories on a hike ’n bike through the Colca Canyon. Jean led us to some nearby towns, stunning canyon views, and one seriously scary bridge crossing. We then rewarded ourselves after our very strenuous four-hour excursion with soak in the local thermal baths. Obviously I’d earned this after my one attempt at exercise during the entire vacation. Vacation, people, vacation. You are supposed to stuff yourself silly and wile away the days in public baths. Have you learned nothing from my previous blogs?

The fearless travelers overlooking the Canyon.

Finally we headed for Kristen’s site, Cabanconde, a supremely beautiful town on the edge of the canyon entrance. Cabanaconde is only about 3,000 people but they have no less than three bars and five hostels, including a really swanky hotel. Needless to say, lots of tourists come through. I can’t even begin to explain how different all the canyon volunteers’ sites are from mine. I’m more than a little jealous. We only had about 12 hours in Cabanaconde but we did manage to spot the famous Colca Condor (honestly, it looks just like a regular bird) and trek out to the edge of the canyon for more great views.

Wow. A bird.

It was a whirlwind trip but well worth all the traveling. Obviously, I will always cherish childhood memories of Thanksgivings with family, but this year will go down as one of my favorites, and certainly one of the most memorable. There was something really beautiful about mashing everyone’s family traditions in a completely foreign setting. What resulted was echoingly familiar but decidedly unique. Far from home, in a land rich with their own cultural traditions, we recreated a notion of our collective home.

Amazing Americana

I came, I saw, I conquered. And I’m ready for more. It turns out six days can go by extremely quickly in the fast-paced first world. It was a whirlwind trip in all senses of the word, but reassuringly familiar at the same time. But let’s start from the beginning.

I had been looking forward to my first trip stateside for months, literally counting down the days for weeks. I barely slept the night before I left and subsequently arrived to the Lima airport with plenty of time to spare. I landed in Miami with tears in my eyes. Corny, I know, but I couldn’t help it – 16 months is a long time to be away from your home, your family, your friends. After clearing customs (where the customs agent gave me a hearty “Welcome home!” after seeing how long I’d been in Peru, again bringing tears to my eyes), I headed straight for the nearest airport bar and chowed down on a burger with fries and an ice cold Bud Light draught. I’d bought some magazines to peruse as I ate my lunch, but all I could focus on was eavesdropping on the conversations swirling around me in English. I’ve gotten pretty good at tuning out Spanish when I want to be left alone, but English? In America? Forget it – I desperately wanted to strike up one of those unique airport conversations. The kind where you become instant friends with a fellow traveler, revealing personal information on a whim because you know you’ll never see them again. I made a few new friends, but was soon whisked away on the quick shuttle flight to Charleston, where I was greeted by a joyefully tearful family waving signs.

I spent the next six days in a blissful haze of shared meals, wedding activities and familial comfort. It was almost as I’d never even left. Almost. I found myself noticing the strangest things – the incredible road maintenance, the friendliness of waitresses. I was amazed by the cleanliness of everything, the luxury of modern bathrooms (though I did continue to throw toilet paper away in the trashcan, much to my mother’s disgust), the scope and breadth of food options, and just how good we have it in the U.S. I don’t want to get preachy or political, and I am certainly aware of the problems in America, but, man, it is nice over there. We, collectively, are incredibly fortunate. I guess some clichés are true for a reason – you really don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. And I certainly had no problem indulging myself in hot showers, cold beverages and warm beds.

Reunited and it feels so good

Keepin' it classy with some of my very favorite people

I’d be remiss not to mention the main impetus behind my quick trip home: to be a part of Britton and Rob’s wedding. I am so glad I was able to be there and share in their special weekend. It was a beautiful wedding (with lots of good food) and gave me the opportunity to see and catch up with a lot of old and dear friends. Thanks for including me, Britnin!

The happy couple

Suffice to say, the trip was over way too quickly. I struggled through my return travel day, spending nearly eight hours in the Miami airport where I gate- and restaurant-hopped the day away. Finally dragging myself to the Lima departure gate, I was greeted by mass confusion. Now there are a lot of Latin American-bound flights leaving from the Miami international terminal, but everywhere I turned were orderly travelers calmly boarding their flights. Until you reach the Peruvian gate – mayhem. Peruvians sprawled everywhere, playing cards, shouting into their cell phones, harassing the gate agent with all kinds of questions. I have no idea what was so dramatic about this particular flight – we left on time and it didn’t seem to be overbooked – but I had to shake my head and laugh a little. Peruvians live with gusto and it cheered me a little to recognize some familiarity even here, bound for my other home.

It’s incredibly reassuring to know that no matter how far you travel, or for how long, home will always be there to welcome you back. Thank you to everyone who gave me a hug, laughed at my stories, bought me a beer, and reminded me what true friends look like. I miss you all over again!

Picchu Pics

I'm just back from yet another amazing Peruvian adventure. I, along with brother Ted, DC friends Emily and Kevin, and a whole mess of PC volunteers + friends, successfully hiked the Inka Trail! It was a grueling four-day trek through some seriously high Andean mountains, made all the more grueling by the freezing rain/snow we encountered while summitting the highest point (4200 meters!). But we arrived, only slightly worse for the wear, at Machu Picchu and the views more than made up for the tough hike. It was absolutely incredible. I am hoping to post a guest blog in the coming days, providing additional details and alternate perspectives from my intrepid visitors. For now, here are a few pictures to quench your Jess craving. Enjoye!

All smiles at the trail head.

Day one: bright, warm and having fun.

Team Jess! (Ted, Jess, Emily, Kevin)

Day two: embarking on a very steep, very cold ascent to 4200 meters (to be followed by a very steep, very cold descent).

Emily and Jess exploring Machu Picchu.

Looking a little tired, but happy, at the Sun Gate.

The clouds part, revealing an incredible sight.

Proof that I made it!

Found: one lost brother wandering one lost city.

Being silly on the train ride back to Cuzco.

Plaza de Armas, Cuzco

Plaza de Armas, Lima

Expert Em

Hello to anyone and everyone who reads this blog. Jessica has asked me to do a guest blog entry after recently traveling to Peru. After our nine-day rendezvous around Northern Peru it goes without saying how much respect I have for not only Jessica but all Peace Corps volunteers.

Having traveled around parts of Peru before, through a high school program back in 2006, I thought I had a pretty good idea on what the trip would be like -- I was wrong. Before I had traveled around the "ritzy Peru," going to cities like Cuzco, Arequipa and Macchu Pichu, staying in tourist friendly homes and hotels, believing I was becoming more worldly, when really I was still situated perfectly in my comfort zone. This time around was different. Jessica was able to show me the real Peru. A filthy yet gorgeous country blessed with so much history but poisoned by visible poverty everywhere.

Our trip started out like any other trip, I got in late and we quickly got to catching up and hanging out like it had only been a few days since we had last seen each other, not 14 months. We toured Lima, had an embarrassing night at one of Lima's more glamorous restaurants and wound up eating at good ole' Chili's, talking about the latest American gossip. After scheming our way into buying some knock-off DVDs and checking out the catacombs, we were off to Mancora, a small surfing town located on the Northern coast close to the Ecuadoran border.

Being in Mancora was awesome! The beach was right there, the mountains were right behind you, everyone had such a laid back attitude, and I was lucky enough to have been able to spend some time with one of Jessica's best friends, Steph. One night, after hanging out with some of the other backpackers at the local surf bar, Jessica quickly became famous after performing her original take on the Michael Jackson's classic "Thriller" dance. The next day, we all three had one last trip to the Mexican restaurant and then Steph went home. From there, Jessica and I were off for our romantic date. But before our romantic date at the natural hot springs, we had to get in our workout. We were led by two teenage Peruvian boys up the side of a dry rustic mountain with an 75 degree incline. We strapped on our helmets and harnesses and ziplined our way down the mountain only to be welcomed by goats! And lots of them. Once I get all of my pictures developed I'll be sure and include some of our hiking pictures to the blog, that is if Jessica allows them. Once we made friends with the goats it was off to the natural hot springs where we watched the moon rise and enjoyed a nice bottle of red wine and chicken and mayo sandwiches (mmm). Another overnight bus and boom! we were almost to Jessica's site. I was so nervous about going to meet Jessica's 'new' family. However, they were so welcoming and kind about another gringa staying with them. We enjoyed our first, and my last, meal together -- a chicken that Jessica and I supplied and a house salad. Now, I'll spare everyone the details, but after that meal I was down for the count until my flight left 2 days later.

Not too many "oh my gosh" memories stand out about my trip to Peru, yet I still had the best time of my life! Being able to finally see where my sister lives, what she does, who her friends are and how she is living was what I hoped to gain from my trip. The last day before I left, as Jessica and I were sitting and enjoying our Snack Wraps from KFC at the mall, Jessica told me what she thought she had learned about Peru and Peruvians after being there for over a year. While my time there doesn't even begin to compare to her, I did fall in love with the contradictions that seem to make up Peru. For example, in Jessica's site running water turns on at 11:00 am and shuts off at 3:00 pm yet satellite TVs and cell phone reception were always available. I could continue to share more of the things that I love about Peru, but I don't want to spoil the excitement of Peru. I strongly encourage that everyone pay Jessica and Peru a visit. Jessica is a FANTASTIC guide and really does show you the real Peru, whether you are ready for it or not!

I hope you all enjoyed my take on Peru and my visit. Visit Jessica! I know she would love the distraction!

Emily

Editor's Note: Everything you read above is Emily's original post. For once, this editor resisted the call of the red pen -- not that Em needed it, great job! Emily was a great guest; a real trooper. Being exposed to "my" Peru is not the easiest or most relaxing vacation, but we definitely made the most of our time together. Oh, and she's right, I would love visitors. In the immortal words of Rod Roddy: "Come on down!"

Jumpin' July

In an effort be a better blogger, I'm summarizing an entire month in order to get caught up and pave the way for more, better and funnier blog posts. Plus, I can't pass up a double-J alliterative title.

July has been somewhat of a whirlwind month, mainly because I've been traveling a fair amount. The month started off with a trip to Huaraz, Ancash to celebrate July 4th with some other volunteers. Ancash is home of some of the world's best trekking and climbing trails. It is absolutely gorgeous -- stunning glacial lakes, soaring Andean peaks, lots of outdoorsy backpacker types, and some truly delicious cafes. Steph and I decided ahead of time that we were in the mood for a true vacation; no more extreme adventure trips...for now. Mission accomplished. In Peru's premier activity spot, we participated in exactly one activity: a three-hour horseback ride through the mountains. To be fair, I was sore afterward so I'm pretty sure that counts as strenuous exercise. We spent the rest of the time in the aforementioned cafes, eating tasty American breakfast treats, sipping on real coffee, reading, doing puzzles and playing Trival Pursuit. It was perfect.

Mt. Huascaran, the highest peak in the Andes, as seen from a great distance.

The horse whisperer, Peruvian edition.

We celebrated July 4th in true Peace Corps style -- a bunch of loud volunteers taking over an unsuspecting Peruvian bar. We made friends with the DJ, played our favorite American classics (including Lady Gaga, obvi) and danced the night away. We made sure to acknowledge the special day by talking incessantly about our favorite foods from home. Yep, get a few over-carbed, under-proteined gringos together and the talk inevitably turns to food.

After spending an uneventful week or so back at site, it was time to hit the road again. This time I was headed north of Chiclayo to a town called Olmos to participate in a leadership camp for teenage boys. Each volunteer is to bring a few boys from their communities to participate in the event, which involves lots of team-building activities, self-esteem workshops, sexual health classes, and a chance to meet other kids from all over the region. In short, it's a really cool (and free) experience for the kids. Sadly, the boys I was supposed to bring backed out at the very last minute -- literally, I was on the bus waiting for them and they never came -- which left me more than a little annoyed. One of the most frustrating things about my work is here is the lack of follow through. I mean, if you're going to turn down a free two-day camping trip, how are we ever going to move forward? But I went anyway and had a lot of fun just watching the other kids. We had a similar camp for teenage girls back in February, which my girls actually participated in, and loved.

The infamous condom race...preventing teenage pregnancy one banana at a time.

Despite the disappointing turn of events, I kept my spirits high because I was headed to Lima to pick up my little sister! Emily arrived to spend about 10 days following her big sister around Peru. It was a great trip! I've asked her to write a guest blog entry to give her perspective of our time together, which I hope to be able to post in the next few days. So stay tuned for that!

Sisters!

In the meantime, a brief overview of our Peruvian adventure: spent a few days in Lima, checking out some of the main sites, eating decidedly non-Peruvian food, and shopping for bootleg DVDs. From Lima we embarked a long and multi-stop journey to the extreme north of the country for a couple days in the cool, hip beach town of Mancora. From Mancora, we took another bus (Emily realized that she, in fact, wasn't the biggest fan of Peruvian public transport) south to Chiclayo so she could see my town, meet my family and get a taste of the campo life. Obviously, there was a lot more to our trip, but I don't want to steal her thunder. We'll post more details later.

Which one of these is not like the others...

In short, it was fantastic to see my baby sis, show her around, hear about her life, listen to her observations on Peru and Peace Corps and to simply spend time together, laughing and opening up in a way that's only possible with those people you've known forever. I am so so happy she came, saw and semi-conquered. Em, I miss you already!

Despite a couple of hiccups, July was a good month for me. A much-needed good month. I'm always excited to see more of this amazing country, and to have someone I love with me for some of these journeys certainly added to my enjoyment. Playing tour guide is a great way to remember the reasons why I really do love this country, and the many, many ways it makes me laugh. At the end of the day, finding the humor in this whole crazy experience is the best way to stay sane.

Up next: a few weeks working hard in site and then headed to Cuzco/Machu Picchu at the end of August with the next round of visitors. Thanks for reading this blog, stay tuned for more -- I promise to update more often! Comments are great ways to motivate me to update! Miss you all mucho.

Amazon Adventure

Well, friends, believe me when I say jungle trekking isn't as easy as it looks. It's taken me awhile to sufficiently recover my strength, and for those pesky back spasms to go away, and even now as I sit down the write this I'm not sure I can. I've been putting off this post because there is just too much to say and no way to adequately describe what the trip was like. But due to my ongoing battle with all things electronic, I find myself stranded in Chiclayo awaiting word from my computer buddy as to whether he can resurrect the contents of my external hard drive. So I've plopped down in the restaurant of the fanciest hotel in town, ordered the cheapest thing on the menu (an S/. 11 grilled cheese) and committed myself to catching up on email, blogs and Facebook stalking.

Semana Santa is big here in Peru and accordingly Peace Corps is kind enough to grant us a few free vacation days around the Easter holiday. Free vacations days? That's all we needed to hear to pack our Chacos and raincoast and head for the jungle. I will spare you the detailed itinerary (if you really want to know everything we did, check out Steph's blog -- she's quite thorough) and jump right to the highlights, with photographic evidence of course.

We spent the first couple days of our trip en route, via a town called Tarapoto, where we took a small side trip to some pretty waterfalls. After 12 hours aboard El Romantic II, we arrived in the town of Lagunas, the jumping off point to enter the National Reserve. From Lagunas we headed off in canoes and spent the better part of three days sprawled out on said canoes admiring the jungle wildlife: monkeys, sloths, anacondas, crocs, dolphins, piranhas and lots of other birds, bugs and trees. It was pretty cool and definitely off the beaten track. The only other tourists we saw were other volunteers. We camped under the stars, protected by mosquito nets smelling of what can only be described as a cross between a moldy boy's locker room and rotten eggs; in a word, awful. We ate fish straight from the river, cooked up by our trusty guides. We went on a nighttime crocodile hunt, where we really did get to lay down in the canoes and marvel at the incredible expanse of starts. It was a great little jaunt, not very relaxing or comfortable but unique and special.

Aboard El Romantic, she's a beaut.

Aboard the canoe, where we spent many an hour.

Nothing but the best for us, four stars all the way.


I didn't think it would happen but I've found my soulmate - the sloth.

We arrived back in Lagunas prepared to board a boat headed for Iquitos, a mere 30 hours away, and interestingly enough, the largest city in the world that is inaccessible by road. Who said this blog wasn't educational? To make an incredibly long story slightly shorter, the boat to Iquitos wasn't coming that day. We waited out the night in Lagunas, which I would not wish on anyone, where we passed the time eating Dutch cheese out of a tin can and dancing with 4-foot-tall Peruvians in the town's only bar, which was really just a store that happened to have a generator and thus could stay open after the lights went out at 9pm. The next morning we found out that there would not be another boat to Iquitos for at least two more days. Our jungle guides promised to work something out for us and ended up arranging for a private boat to transport the 14 of us (my group plus two other volunteer groups). The cost was much, much higher, but they assured us it would only be an eight hour ride to Iquitos. I think the rest of the story is best explained visually.

The boat we thought we were taking. Spacious, no?


It started looking bad when this canoe pulled up and the Peruvians transferred the engine from the big boat to the canoe.



17 people, 18 hours, one canoe. There aren't enough expletives in the world.



Nightfall sets in and we're still on the canoe, faking smiles.

So, eighteen hours later we arrived in Iquitos. I'm not exaggerating when I say those were probably the worst 18 hours of my life. Especially when it started to rain and we were forced to seek shelter under a moldy tarp. Or when we were lost in the middle of the Amazon in the middle of the night and kept turning off the motor to simply float helplessly. Or the time when we asked the "captain" how much longer and he told us we were one hour away from a town from where we were eight to nine hours from Iquitos AFTER we'd already been on the canoe for five hours. All in all it was a horrible, horrible journey and I vow never to ride in a canoe again. Ever. But we did arrive in Iquitos, more or less in one piece and were able to actually relax for the first time all trip, enjoying some surprisingly tasty Texas BBQ and the indescribable pleasure of a real bed on dry land.

A word to the wise when planning your next Peruvian vacation -- the jungle is lacking certain infrastructure that makes for an easy vacation. I wouldn't recommend it if you enjoy things like schedules, reliable information and beds. But all in all, I am glad I made the trip. If nothing else it made for a good blog post, right? There are more pictures on Facebook and on Steph and Kim's blogs if you just can't get enough.