Hi everybody...I just arrived in Lima tonight and will be heading to Northern Peru tomorrow. I have had three long days of smooth traveling. There were some blockades in Bolivia because of some protest or another but luckily the blockade was lifted the same day my bus left from Sucre to La Paz. I arrived in La Paz after a 9 hour bus ride only to get on another bus to Copacabana (Not the one the song is about...although I find myself singing it just the same). I caught a boat out to Isla del Sol to see the island for an hour and then caught another boat back to Copacabana. I then took a bus across the border to Puno followed by an airplane to Lima. I am now holed up in some hostel and just finished watching the third Matrix film with a bunch of french people...Lima reminds me of home in that the place is full of fog!

Will write again soon.

-stacie

Quake in SF

This morning while I was sleeping I felt the building mildly sway. I thought it was a truck driving by or some strong wind, and went back to sleep... I was wrong... Yup a good old California quake. 4.2 centered over one of Stacies favorite hiking spots, Juaquin Miller Park in Oakland. All safe here, no damage.
-Daniel

Cordilleria del Frailes

After saying goodbye to the friends I made on the Salt Flats Trip, I began a three day trip to a series of small villages famous for their weavings. I happened to meet two American college students who were interested in a similar trek. Our guide, Jaime, picked us up in a taxi and we drove an hour out of Sucre to the trail-head. We would hike 16 kilometers to see 20,000 year old cave paintings and then follow an old Inca trail to a small town at the bottom of a valle.

What should have been a 6 hour hike, unfortunately turned into a 12 hour walk. One of the girls had absolutely NO hiking experience which I learned while we walked the last 3 hours in the dark with one head lamp. The poor girl had bought new sneakers for the hike and her feet were in excruciating pain. I attempted to amuze the girl and distract her from crying by telling her interesting stories about my life. --Except my life is rather boring so I´m not sure if my stories only added insult to injury. When we arrived at the house where we planned to stay, the old woman who would house us was sound asleep. We stood outside yelling and hollering for over 20 minutes until she finally heard us and came out in her bed clothes to greet us. She had the biggest smile and it felt so welcoming after a long night. I was also amazed by how positive the girls were about their 12 hour trek as we recounted the day while we snuggled up in our wool blankets and ate soup. Below is a picture of us with the woman we stayed with.

The next day, we left for the second village, Marawa, at 7am. We walked along an old dirt road through the mountains and countryside. Along the way, we encountered small children (Some seemed as young as 5 or 6) herding sheep and goats. I debated on whether I should include an animal picture. There were so many animals to choose from: sheep, goats, pigs, donkeys...So here is a goat and sheep picture for your viewing pleasure.

The villages are all farming communities and the villagers happened to be harvesting wheat. They had small racks made out of sticks and would toss the wheat into the air in order to separate the seeds from their coatings. Off in the distance you could see clouds of wheat being tossed in the air. Here is a picture of a wheat field at sunset.

After we arrived to Marawa, the girls decided that they had seen what they had come to see and went back to Sucre in a tourist van that just happened to be in Marawa. It was one of two vehicles we had seen all day. The other vehicle, a large flatbed truck, dropped off about 8 young people from France. Later that night two Austrians arrived followed by 2 French college students. Fortunately for me, my guide had an uncanny ability to get a party going. By 9pm, we were all standing in the kitchen hut talking in our only common language, Spanish, and drinking boiled water with pure alcohol and Cinnamon (His grandmother´s recipe). By 10 pm, the 2 French girls would replace the Americans and join us for the rest of the trek. The following day, the four of us walked 3 hours back to the village from the night before and waited for the tour agency´s taxi to arrive and take us to a small weaving village called Potolo.

All of Villages we had visited were comprised of Jalq'a Indians and Potolo was no different. The absolutely wonderful thing about Potolo is that a few years back, a non profit organization helped the village women to revive their traditional weaving. Their weaving traditions were nearly lost until the village women were organized and the elders began to teach the younger girls in the village how to weave. The Jalq'a weaving tradition consists of weaving in only two colors: black and red (Some use orange and blue or fuscia and black).

The village women weave strange creators that are supposed to resemble the unknown or "the devil." Our tour guide, Jaime, explained that the indigenous people embrace the symbol of "the devil" as a source of power against Spanish rule since in Christian tradition, the devil is something to be feared. Our guide also talked about the importance of having awareness of the unknown and having respect for things or entities that cannot be seen or known. Many of the weavings have mythical creators such as animals with multiple heads. Below is a picture of a woman weaving her design. She didn´t have any weavings to sell to us but I really felt like she took pride in her work. She welcome us into her home and showed us how she did the weavings.

After visiting various homes and looking at women weavers of various ages, I finally purchased one for myself. Below is a picture of the artist and myself holding the weaving. This weaving took over a month of daily labor to make. Many of the weavings take two to three months depending on the size and quality.

One of the French girls also purchased a weaving and as we walked around the village, other women stopped us and examined our purchases. Most wanted to know what we paid. There was a definite sense of healthy business competition amongst the other weavers. Many young girls would approach us and talk with us and say that they wanted to learn how to weave like their mothers. You who are reading this can probably imagine my excitement to see women having a sense of pride and empowerment in a country where women are subjected to a tradition of machismo. --Okay, I'll stop before my republican friends start to vomit...

Speaking of friends, please e-mail me any gift requests you might have. Bolivia (And Peru) is known for its fine alpaca and llama knittings and EXTREMELY affordable prices. Need a new hat? Scarf? Sweater? Llama finger puppet? Perhaps your old, tattered wool poncho needs to be replaced. Let me know....

Meanwhile back in SF

Meanwhile, I had my one day off this week and I went hiking with a college friend. I went up to mount Tam and enjoyed the views. During the day, one of my patients showed up at the emergency department, so after hiking I headed to the hospital. Today (Sunday) I spent all day at the emergency department doing a regular shift, picked up another very interesting patient and saw some neat cases. These are some pictures of my day off: the views from mount tam and the golden gate bridge coming back into a foggy city.

-Daniel

Did i mention it was cold here...Bolivians do not use heating and while sleeping at 4 below zero Fahrenheit, i have adopted many strategies to keep warm at night while in Los salares del Uyuni. The three day trip through the desert was magnificent if i were to ignore that the radiator in our jeep blew out at 4:30 am or that we were lost in the desert at night for several hours because our driver had never done the trip before. Most of the streams and rivers we crossed were partially or totally frozen and i must admit, i spent most of my time running out of the car to take a few pictures and then quickly returning to the comforts of my sleeping bag. -despite the cold, the salt flats were just so amazing. It is one place where the absence of things makes it so amazing.

Here you can see pictures of me on the salt flat which is pure white salt that goes for miles and miles. In the middle of the salt flat lies an island with cactus and other plants that have amazingly adapted to this cold, harsh climate.

We passed by a red lake with some llama near by as well. There are so many llama and alpaca along the roadside.

I also included a picture of me horseback riding amongst the red rocks of Tupiza. Tupiza is close by to the place where Butch Cassidy may have died although they have yet to locate the actual grave.

I arrived in Sucre last night with some of the people i met on the salt flats trip. I will hopefully rest up in this beautiful colonial town as i arrange to take what i hope to be a 4 day walking tour of the surrounding countryside. The countryside of Sucre is home to the jalq'a people who are known for their beautiful weavings.

I would like to thank all of you who have taken the time to write me. I really appreciate hearing what is happening with friends and family. It helps me feel a bit more connected. I have tried to write back to all that have written and will continue to try to do so.

Take care!

*sorry about the punctuation...some of these computers in Bolivia don´t have everything in working order --especially the keyboards.

I´m back from my hiking trip and have had to make many difficult decisions since my return --Should I have chocolate or a fruit flavored ice cream? Should I have a banana drink or a Coca Cola Light? The Yunga Cruz Trek was amazing and I had good company as well. I will say that I ate more eggs and rice this past week than I have probably eaten all year, but when in Rome...

The five day trek began with a two hour drive to a small town called Chunavi. The only traffic along the way were llama herds in the road and a few minibuses. Chunavi, at 4200 meters, is, well, cold. At one point I simply hoped that my feet would become so frozen that I would no longer feel them. It is hard to believe that people live in such a barren place. The ONLY crop grown in this area is potatoes and my guide said that they let the land rest 8 years after one year of potato cultivation. Here is a picture of some of the local townspeople.

The people of Chunavi speak some Spanish but mostly Aymary. My guide was from a small town near a different trek and he and the porter were both fluent in Spanish and their native tongue Aymary. The only other brave tourist willing to go on this trek was a very kind and generous Scotsman named Raymond. You will see him along with the guides and myself in the picture above. Our guide was so wonderful and good natured. He explained a lot about local traditions of the town where he is from and the beliefs they have. Throughout our trip, our guide gave alcohol at various points to offer to Pachimama (She´s basically "The Big Shot" in terms of idle worship out here in Bolivia. Pachimama is kind of like mother nature but is often symbolized or thought to be like a mountain where all life comes from and where all life is taken away. This is why so many paintings of the Virgin Mary look like a big triangle or mountain) I felt very lucky to have such a nice guide and it was a great opportunity to practice my Spanish. At one point our guide shared that he used to cultivate flowers but saw an apparition of a bear and since that day the flowers began to die and he had to find another way to make money. Throughout our trek, our guide and porter chewed the coca leaf as it is traditionally done out here. The second and third night were at higher altitudes but much warmer since we had a nice blazing fire both nights. Raymond and I also filled our water bottles with boiling hot water and placed them at the feet of our sleeping bags. I was so excited to be warm that I had a hard time falling asleep. Below is a picture of the sunset the second night. The sweeping views of the mountains truly can´t be captured in a photo, but I did my best.

The plant life and climate changed drastically the last two days of hiking. We went from mountainous terrain with shrub-like plants to tropical cloud forest in a matter of hours. Towards the end of the fourth day, we grabbed mandarins and oranges off the trees as we bushwhacked our way through the forest. After seeing the tough lives of the people in the mountains, if felt like eating the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden... The final day involved a two hour hike to the town of Chulumani. We ate lunch, exchanged e-mail addresses and parted ways. Raymond and company took the bus back to La Paz while I hopped into a taxi heading to a place called Apa Apa Reserve. Apa Apa is an old growth cloud forest and hacienda owned by a local Bolivian that has had the property pass through his family through generations. It was founded in the 1500s after being "purchased" from the Incas. The owner´s wife is American and they have a daughter that helps out in the restaurant where they serve hacienda guests and locals alike. The owner explained to me that he had difficulties with protecting the cloud forest from locals who wanted to use the land to hunt and collect firewood. The owner decided to build a water supply system and give water from the forest to the local residents provided that they agree not to damage the forest. Since the water supply system was installed, they haven´t had any more problems with forest destruction. Our guide from the Yunga Trek explained similar problems in the national park near his town. --A tension between needing to survive and feed your family and protect a forest that is quickly disappearing. I went on a guided tour at Apa Apa with a couple from La Paz. Below is a picture of a beautiful orchid we saw and a picture of me next to a large Strangling Ficus tree. The tree was so huge!

In a few hours I will be heading out to Tupiza to take a 4 day guided tour through the salt flat lands of Bolivia. Hope you all had a magnificent 4th of July!

-stacie

Meanwhile Stacie has been out running around Bolivia on her hiking trip, I have been at the hospital doing my weeks of in-patient medicine. Mostly the schedule for impatient medicine requires showing up at about 7 am every day. A couple of the patients I was taking care of, went into surgery and I got to follow them into it. On the 3rd of July I went into a surgery at 8 pm, and it finished at about 5 am. One surgery, 9 hours. I don't know how the surgeons do it night after night. So Wednesday (4th of July) I got to go home at about noon. Camilo (my brother)'s friend, Captain Bob (now our friend too), has a sailboat he invites us to race about once a month. He invited us to go out to watch the fireworks from the bay. So after a long nap in the afternoon, I did just that. The photos are of Diego and his girlfriend Katia, of my parents (my mom is the one with a life vest) and of Camilo, Captain Bob and Carol (Bob's wife), and the sunset over San Francisco.

This weekend I have spent the rest of my time running errands and generally catching up on regular life, after I finished internal med, yesterday at about noon. I went to Ikea and got a few unnecessary items, including a cinamon roll, of which I lost half to the ground. I made up for that by having a couple of slices of pizza my heart. Other than that, San Francisco is business as usual, with all types of stuff going on, including the baseball all-star game weekend. The photos are of the Ikea shopping carts, the traffic coming into the city, and in the park, and of the entrance of the Botanical garden.

La Paz

Last Saturday, I got on a bus with about 50 other young travels and crossed the border from Peru into Bolivia. I had a brief stop over in Copacabana where I met two young women from England. We happened to be going to the same hostal in La Paz and shared a taxi from the bus stop to the hostal. I am staying at Loki Hostal. It´s actually one of a chain of hostals. The other two are located in Peru. For the price of 4 dollars a night, they provide new comfy beds, free internet and wi-fi, breakfast (toast) and a bar. Loki hostal has a reputation for being a non stop party and this has been my experience. The bar blares music and serves up alcohol until about 1 am. Then everyone in the bar goes out to the clubs. Some of the young people go out to snort coke in the later evening and then sleep all day. According to some friends I´ve made at the hostal, there is a place called Vivians that serves cocaine in a room full of mirrors. Although Vivians isn´t my scene, I have enjoyed meeting so many new people from all over the world. Everyone has been so nice. I have met very few Americans so far. There are a lot of people here from, Isreal, Europe and England traveling through South America. Could you imagine traveling on the Pound in South America? One woman loves to tease me about the Pound being double the dollar...

Outside the confines of the wild Loki Hostal, is the lovely city of La Paz. Even though it is quite a large city, many woman continue to wear traditional dress and speak Qechua. For the last few days I have wandered up and down the city. La Paz is in a deep valley and above it, on the hillsides, exists the barrios called El Alto. I am staying in the city center and have seen several museums, and churches. I will spare you the pictures of the churches. They are all starting to look the same to me. I´ve had some delicous and inexpensive meals and had my laundry done. It set me back 2 whole dollars to have someone do my laundry. Yesterday, I had a delicious steak sandwich, fries and a soda for 1.25. I can get used to these prices.



On Sunday I stumbled upon a live concert in the park and learned that there is a Bolivian movie festival this week. I may head over to see one of the movies this evening. I have also been trying to organize some treks and it seems that I will be leaving tomorrow for a trek in the Yungas (Cloud Forest). The trek is called the Yunga Cruz Trek and will last 5 days. The trek is the most difficult one in the Yungas so I am prepared to get my butt kicked. The trek ends in a little town called Chulumani where there is a small ecology reserve. I will stay at the reserve for a few days and then take a bus back to La Paz. Because I will be in such a small town, it is highly unlikely that I will be able to access the internet. You should hear from me again in about a week and a half.

I hope you are all well. I had a dream that I flew home to "just spend 3 days" with Daniel. I guess I am a little home sick too.

-stacie

Here are the pictures I promised you of the floating islands on Lake Titicaca. Supposedly, indigenous Aymara communities fled attacks by other indigenous groups on the mainland and built islands out of reed grass (Genus Juncus). People still live on the islands but the islands closest to Puno have become a huge tourist attraction. The island we went to was a few hours from Puno and wasn't as touristy. One of the natives gave a small presentation about how they make the island, reed boats and how the totora reed is used for other purposes such as cleansing teeth.

We ate some of the tip of the totora reed and it tasted just like Chicken! Just kidding...it tasted more like Jikama. Here are some pictures of the islands and a picture of a woman starting a cooking fire.

Stacie's Mashup

So Stacie dreamed up this mashup. It places the pictures that she takes, where she's taken them. Just go on down to Bolivia and Peru and join her. Enjoy!

I arrived in Puno (12,000ft+) two nights ago and went straight to bed (After dinner and after chatting with Daniel of course!). Daniel's grandfather told me that I should rest as soon as I arrive to this altitude and I think his advise was helpful 'cuz I feel great --Unless I have to walk up a flight of stairs.



Yesterday I went on a tour boat to stay the night at the island of Amanani on Lake Titicaca. The island is inhabited by a small, farming indigenous community. It is a very harsh environment. It only rains 4 months out of the year and the families are very poor. They are completely dependent on farming and more recently tourism. There are two ways to go to the Island. You can either go with a pre-arranged tour group for the day or you can go with a guy that is from the island. If you go with someone from the indigenous community all the proceeds go to the community instead of the tour guide. I naturally decided to go with the locals and had an amazing time. The local families take in tourists on a rotating basis. When we arrived, they split us up and sent us to stay with a family. Below is a photo of the family I stayed with.

Behind the family, you can see a little door. That's where the "kitchen" was. All the woman ate on the floor with the children near the stove and then men sat in stools or at the table. In this picture you can see that everyone is dressed informally in attire for working around the house. When the families go to the plaza in town or travels, they wear the very colorful and beautiful dresses with black shaws. Everything is embroidered and very beautiful. I'm sorry I didn't get a picture for you...I always feel so rude when I take a picture of the locals because well you know...The head male of the household was very gracious to answer all of my farming and plant questions. The indigenous community speaks Quechua as their native language, but the daughter in law, children and the father of the household all spoke Spanish. Some of the other tourists I went out to the island with did not have such luck. I stayed one night on the island and then we got back in the boat and headed over to the island of Tequile.

When docked at the island, you are left at the bottom of a 500 step staircase. Here is a few pictures of the staircase and the view from the top of the staircase.

Can you believe I walked up all of those steps at this elevation? And what a view of Lake Titicaca! And given my slow pace, I had plenty of time to admire the view. You can see the dock at the bottom of the hill. Shortly after we arrived back at the boat, the Minister of Tourism arrived with his entourage...very impressive.

I have other pictures I would like to download but the image downloading just isn't working for me right now. I have a couple of really nice pictures of the floating islands we stopped at on the way out to Amantani island so check back.

After the long boat ride home, I arrived in Puno at around 2:30pm today. You will all be pleased to know, I have finally changed into my second outfit after a long hot shower (Which you probably won't see in pictures because it's so cold here I am always in layers of jackets). I had trout fried in flour batter (Remember when dad would make that for us mom? Nick?) and a pancake with caramel for dessert. I guess we aren't fooling any Peruvian into thinking pancakes are a breakfast food. Ha!

Tomorrow I'll be getting on a 7am bus to La Paz. I hope everyone is enjoying the warmth of summer!

I arrived safe and sound in Lima this morning at around 6am! I didn´t sleep at all on the plane because I was compelled to watch "Wildhogs." While all the passengers slept I found myself giggling each time one of the characters in the movie fell off his bike. What is it about "falling" humor? It gets me every time. I managed to get a few hours of sleep in my hotel room until I was awoken by chants and yelling outside in the street. This is what I saw from my hotel room... The guy at the front desk said they were teachers protesting local corruption and advocating for a state run education system.

After I cleaned myself up in my 7 dollar a night hotel room (How cheap!) I walked on over to get one of the set meals (2 dollars!) at Plaza San Martin. This is were I discovered Inca Kola...very sweet and yummy soda that will be my diet Pepsi substitute for the duration. I felt obligated, even though I am dead tired, to tour around a bit since I´ll be flying to Juliaca (Lake Titicaca) tomorrow. I saw the monastery, the main cathedral and a park showing some of the old fortification around the city. Here is a picture of the San Francisco Monastery. They also had a really cool library that looked EXACTLY like something out of Harry Potter, but we weren´t permitted to take pictures...That means I´ll be able to spare you from seeing piles of human skulls in the crypts that were arranged in "una forma artistica."

Well, that´s it for now. I want to thank all of you that have been so supportive of me traveling like this...especially Daniel...

The Sunset.

San Francisco!

This will be my last entry for the summer. I am back in San Francisco and have already started having meetings for work. I arrived safely and had a huge smile when I saw the ocean and our very clean apartment (Thanks to Daniel!). I want to thank everyone who was supportive in our travels this summer. I hope you all have a a wonderful year and keep in touch.

-stacie (And Daniel too!)

Huamantla: The Virgin of Charity Celebration

Yesterday evening, I traveled to a small town called Huamantla to see a special festival of the Virgin of Charity. Every year, on August 14th, the town begins to decorate the streets with flowers and designs made out of sand. All of the people living in the center of town help out in decorating. After hours of shaking different colors of sand into giant stencils, the streets gradually transform into a magical spectacal of sheer beauty. The towns people are expected to complete their creations by 1 AM, when the Virgin of Charity is taken from the alter at the main church in town, placed in a giant float decorated with flowers, and marched through the streets until about 4 am. The Virgin parades over the designs along with thousands of tourists and towns people, leaving blurred colors of sand behind them. What is even more interesting about this tradition, is that the local Indiginous community, prior to Cortez's arrival, used to have a similar celebration with their Goddess of Flowers (A Goddess of Fertility). Originally, the streets were decorated with bird feathers and flowers.

I arrived at the celebration at 5 pm and gradually strolled through the streets to watch the art work unfold. Interestingly, there were almost no foriegners in the town to watch the event. By midnight, after walking through the streets all evening, I parked my tired butt on the curb and waited for the Virgin to come out of the church. Some of you might be thinking that it isn't safe to be out this late at night (mom) but there were tons and tons of police officers and most of the crowd was wealthy tourists from nearby cities and towns. Many of us were huddled on the curb, falling asleep while we waited. Many older women in traditional dress peppered the streets, holding thier prayer cards while bundled in their colorful shawls. When the Virgin was taken from the alter and was carried out of the church, fireworks were set off and there was a lot of drumming and singing. The crowd pushed their way forward and followed the Virgin as she began her parade.

I only followed the Virgin for a few mintues and then attempted to find a bus back to the town in which I was sleeping. This proved to be a challenge and with some help from some bus drivers and towns people, I arrived back at my hotel at 6 am. Today I am back in Mexico City and slept all day in the hotel room. I only emerged to eat and write this. I can't wait for you all to see the photos I took but this computer isn't reading my USB card so I will try at another internet place tommorow.

Corruption in Colombia, a reflection

(The following was written four days after returning from Ciudad Perdida. Please feel free to post comments or corrections. Most of the information obtained was from talking to various people during our travels.)


Laws and regulations abound in Colombia, but there is always a way to bend, twist or blatantly ignore them. During a 72 hour prohibition of selling alcohol this past weekend, I shared a bottle of wine with friends, drank a beer and watched as our waiter swept away our bottles as the police patrolled past the outdoor café. Of course, I imagine if you did get caught selling alcohol, you could just pay off the police to overlook the incident. So no worries. Drink all you want during the 72 hour prohibition. If you ignore the law, you can even have 4 bottles of beer while driving a Chiva full of tourists as our driver did from Ciudad Perdida. But what if there isn’t room for all of the tourists to ride with the beer guzzling driver? Just send some people to sit up on the roof and quickly stuff them into the Chiva when you get close to a city. The prevailing attitude here isn’t following the rules because they’re there to protect you. The attitude is more like “do what you want but don’t get caught.” Why worry about getting caught? Because then you have to pay authorities off and this can be costly. In places outside of large cities like Medellin and Bogota, the “pay off” is even more complicated.

Some of you may know that over three years ago the land around Ciudad Perdida had its fair share of guerrilla and paramilitaries (Paras). Over the past 3 years, the guerrilla has been ousted out of this territory by the Paras and the government due to a kidnapping of some tourists visiting the lost city 3 years ago. According to our tour guide, a group of guerrilla called the ELN snuck down into camp early in the morning and kidnapped several of the hikers. They left behind the sick and out of shape travelers and took the rest up into the mountains. Colombian President Uribe responded to the kidnapping by sending thousands of military into the Sierra Nevada to find them. They found them, gun fire ensued and the ELN threatened to kill the hostages so the military was instructed to back off. Eventually the ELN released hostages a month later. Rumors of the government negotiating an exchange for ELN prisoners are the most prevalent reason for their release. Soon there after, the FARC, another guerrilla group in the area, was not pleased that their territory was now being patrolled by thousands of military and offered to hunt down the ELN that took the tourists. They found them and handed them over to the authorities. The FARC have been pushed back into other territory beyond Ciudad Perdida. So now the land is protected by military and free and clear of all corruption right? Not exactly. In reaction to the guerrilla control and violence throughout Colombia, a group called the Paramilitaries began to form several years ago. They are referred to by Colombians as Paras. Paras claim to want to protect the poor and disenfranchised from the “evil” guerrillas (The guerrillas actually have a communist-like agenda of wanting to rescue the poor from corruption and greed or something like that) so the Paras formed small groups, initially under the funds of wealthy ranchers trying to protect their land from the guerrillas. After a time, the Paras grew in power and have become more and more successful at controlling the guerrillas and limiting their influence. The Paras soon established control in the Sierra Nevada surrounding Ciudad Perdida after the guerrilla was squeezed out of the area. And in places where the Paras have a stronghold, they have taken it upon themselves to exert their power and moral stance over the land. Some say that women have a certain dress code in some parts of Para territory. And the Paras also charge fees to EVERYONE. They call it paying for “security.” The guides that take tourists to Ciudad Perdida pay their fair share for “security” in the high sierras. Some say that over a third of what Ciudad Perdida hikers pay to the tour agency goes straight to the hands of the Paras. The Paras, like the guerrilla, also make money in other ways such as controlling the cocaine production in the country. Since most of the land on the way up to Ciudad Perdida is Para controlled, many parts of the Sierras have small coca factories and farms. During our hike, we were taken for a tour of a factory which was more like a make shift tent made out of sheets of plastic. At the coca factory, we were shown how coca leaves were made into paste by the owner of the factory. Our “tour guide” ( A nice old man with very few teeth) told us a story about a time when the farmers in the area were once consuming too much of the cocaine paste (Paste is the first initial product made by adding various products to extract the cocaine such as gasoline, salt, and lime), so the Paras, in an effort to ensure a continuous supply of coca paste, told the farmers that if they were caught consuming, they would be killed. Not only did they kill some of the users, they killed the people that knew about the users. Sure enough, the cocaine problem in the area has been drastically reduced. Apparently death is also the penalty for getting caught stealing on the third offense. Are the Paras starting to sound a little like the Italian mob to you? You may be wondering how the Paras can be so above the law considering that in areas like Ciudad Perdida, the land is regularly patrolled by military? It seems that President Uribe’s parents were both killed by guerrilla. Most are saying that Uribe has made an arrangement to ignore or overlook the actions of the Paras in an effort to allow the Paras to dominate the guerrilla. The trade off is that the Paras also dominate the cocaine supply and the poor people in the process.

But what about Plan Colombia? Doesn’t Uribe have a plan, supported and presumably heavily funded by the US, to eradicate and eliminate coca crops in the country?
Can’t farms agree to destroy their crops and receive a handsome fee from the government for doing so? Of course they can. We saw a farm that received such a payment for destroying their crops three years ago. The land is now covered by three year old coca plants. And isn’t there a demilitarization plan for all Paras where they can trade in their guns, “demilitarize” and receive a monthly pension from the government? The Paras run a racket around this to. Apparently they give a non-Para member an old gun, have them say they were Para and tax them part of the pension they receive each month.


It seems that the most powerful law of the land is bowing down to the dollar that comes from cocaine. Whoever controls the cocaine protects their funding source with violence and intimidation. So people pay their “security” fees and obey the law—the law of the corrupted whoever they might be. So tell me, just who are the bad guys in this scenario? The government for turning a blind eye to corruption? The Paras for providing “security” with intimidation and force? The guerrillas for fighting for a new government for the people while funding their war with their own cocaine production? Maybe I should be asking are their any good guys left?

So as a tourist visiting Colombia, I enjoyed my wine during prohibition. I laughed at the thought of guys riding on the roof of a truck at dangerously high speeds. I was shockingly amused at our beer guzzling driver taking us back to the big city, away from the Paras, away from our big adventure at the Lost City. And now I am heading back to the states, where I feel safe and secure. Where I will follow all the rules and obey the laws because I can’t pay anyone off and because they will send me a ticket in the mail if I run a red light.

Tlaxcala and Huamantla

Yesterday evening, I traveled to a small town called Huamantla to see a special festival of the Virgin of Charity. Every year, on August 14th, the town begins to decorate the streets with flowers and designs made out of sand. All of the people living in the center of town help out in decorating. After hours of shaking different colors of sand into giant stencils, the streets gradually transform into a magical spectacal of sheer beauty. The towns people are expected to complete their creations by 1 AM, when the Virgin of Charity is taken from the alter at the main church in town, placed in a giant float decorated with flowers, and marched through the streets until about 4 am. The Virgin parades over the designs along with thousands of tourists and towns people, leaving blurred colors of sand behind them. What is even more interesting about this tradition, is that the local Indiginous community, prior to Cortez's arrival, used to have a similar celebration with their Goddess of Flowers (A Goddess of Fertility). Originally, the streets were decorated with bird feathers and flowers.

I arrived at the celebration at 5 pm and gradually strolled through the streets to watch the art work unfold. Interestingly, there were almost no foriegners in the town to watch the event. By midnight, after walking through the streets all evening, I parked my tired butt on the curb and waited for the Virgin to come out of the church. Some of you might be thinking that it isn't safe to be out this late at night (mom) but there were tons and tons of police officers and most of the crowd was wealthy tourists from nearby cities and towns. Many of us were huddled on the curb, falling asleep while we waited. Many older women in traditional dress peppered the streets, holding thier prayer cards while bundled in their colorful shawls. When the Virgin was taken from the alter and was carried out of the church, fireworks were set off and there was a lot of drumming and singing. The crowd pushed their way forward and followed the Virgin as she began her parade.

I only followed the Virgin for a few mintues and then attempted to find a bus back to the town in which I was sleeping. This proved to be a challenge and with some help from some bus drivers and towns people, I arrived back at my hotel at 6 am. Today I am back in Mexico City and slept all day in the hotel room. I only emerged to eat and write this. I can't wait for you all to see the photos I took but this computer isn't reading my USB card so I will try at another internet place tommorow.

Tepoztlan with a view

This morning I traveled to a small town called Tepoztlan. Tepoztlan seems to be a popular tourist destination for those living in nearby Mexico City. Tepoztlan is known for it´s pyramid on a hill. You can take the 45 minute hike up the rocky trail to see the view of the town from the top of this sacred pyramid which was once used by priests of some indigenous group (As you can see, I´ve been really studying the history of the town.). Naturally, I hiked up to the top of the pyramid and the view was truly amazing.





The only downside was the fact that for the first time in three days I changed my t-shirt and it got soaking wet with sweat during the hike. So I am back to the same old t-shirt and my alternate is drying (after a good wash) in the bathroom. Besides the the pyramid, Tepoztlan also has an outdoor market and hundreds of artisan stands lining the cobblestone streets.





After my walk up the hill I strolled through the market and the stands. One salesperson tried to convince me that I could take a giant basket on the plan (The basket could easily fit your average three year old). I decided against the purchase and bought an ice cream instead. Tomorrow I am heading to another town near Mexico City called Tlaxcala. I have no idea how to get there from here. It seems the fasted option is to back to Mexico City (1 hour and 15 minutes) and catch a direct bus from there. Wish me luck.

I tried to post pictures but it just isn´t happening. I will upload them later when I get the chance.