At this point, I've started to work out a rather nice travel system.
All of my shirts, skirts, and socks are properly rolled, stacked, and stuffed into my backpack in generally the same manner every time I change locations. I always have hostel information written out, reviewed and ready to go the night before. I even have specific hiding spots with specifically calculated amounts of monies for quick and easy access ( money for juice? left pocket. Bus fare? Zipper in purse. Fancy restaurant that can probably break the obnoxiously large bills I get from ATMs? ... ).
The point is, structure is my middle name (my parents seem to think it's Lea, but whatever. I KNOW).
And yet every time I start a new blog post, I fumble around for like half and hour, trying to figure out how to structure it. bleh. Today, you get a list! And like every good list, this list has a title.
Enjoy.
UFOs and Other Strange Things You May Not Believe
1. Lake Titicaca is the highest, largest lake in South America. It also looks like the Mediterranean. At least, I think it does. I've never been, but the Mediterranean in my mind looks pretty similar to this (but with more grapes, obviously).
The Lake was absolutely beautiful, and right on the border between Peru and Boliva (say hi to Bolivia!). Though I'd read it was big, I couldn't have been prepared for how the water seemed to stretch itself around so many smaller islands almost endlessly. It felt like a sea. Or even an ocean! I spent about 6 hours laying on the roof of the boat, eating kilos of peanuts and absorbing as much fresh air and sun rays as possible (Puno, the city we disembarked from, was a bit too much city for me--meaning, of course, that it smelled like a city. This made the quiet, the breeze, and the sound of the water against the boat even more incredibly peaceful and appreciated. And you know, as much as I love the warm, cozy llama gear, my fast-fading tan line was a pretty clear wake up call that I needed sun! So that was lovely). Even if...
2. I'm sunburned.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS.
I mean, I know Fievel and J-biebs are like, "never say never" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ql1IFJwF0SQ and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z5-P9v3F8w), but like, really? This never happens! Yet here I am, red and sad and flaking. You hear that, Peruvian sun? You win! Clearly I'm learning to deal with new challenges every day--I know how to strategically avoid hot shower pressure. I know to ALWAYS accept sunscreen when offered. I even know that taking off my glasses in public is a huge no-no (the tan-line across my nose is awful...but also strangely wonderful, if I'm perfectly honest. A true source of comedic relief).
Anyway, the mexi has fried.
To all the sunburned people in the world--I am floating through your pain.
3. I'm also just plain floating.
One of the major draws on Lake Titicaca are the floating reed islands--they're maintained (aka literally rebuilt) every two weeks by cutting down the nearby reeds, stacking them on top of rooty mud-blocks (which obviously float), and anchoring everything down with synthetic twine and heavy rocks. The anchors keep the entire island from drifting around the Lake, so no one's in danger of floating off, really. Unless they want to, in which case, BAM.
Reed boat. What up.
Are they lions? Bananas with faces?
I'm not quite sure, but they're sailing around Lake Titicaca, and for a small fee, so can you!
I'm still not sure how I felt about the floating reed islands.
Don't get me wrong, the ingenuity and craftsmanship of it all was totally fascinating--but our greetings (we were immediately wrapped in traditional dress) and goodbyes (the women did a synchronized dance and said "hasta la vista, baby!") felt really choreographed and...uh, disneyland-ish? I know I obviously can't ignore the relationship and power that I have as a tourist, and that, in 9 times out of 10, I'm being sold a particular experience--but I didn't get to know the people on Uros island at all. It was very much a "hi, pose, take a picture, leave" kind of stop--a repeatable performance that I, and visitors like me, are very much a part of (for better or worse).
That being said, I really enjoyed the rest of my trip around the islands!
The Lake visit took two-days en total. I stayed with a fabulous host-mom named Gloria--she maintained a home by herself, raised three boys (Elvis, Edison, and Darrion), prepared the most wonderful vegetarian meals I've had in Peru, and managed to do everything with extreme kindness, strength, and a smile (Peruvian women never cease to amaze me).She also reassured me that I wasn't crazy when I told her that I saw an OVNI. What's an OVNI, you ask? Well, its an objeto volante no identificado...which leads me straight to number four on the list.
4. I am not crazy. I also saw a UFO.
I don't have a picture of it, but I have a picture of the spot it was buzzing around the next morning!
This is me and Christine--she saw it, too.
It was about 10:00 at night, and Christine and I decided to do some star gazing before bed. There was only solar electricity on the island we were staying at, so everything was pitch-black, which made the stars light up really wonderfully. We'd been talking for about 10 minutes, when Christine stopped mid-sentence and asked in a hushed whisper, "do you see that star moving? There--above the mountain!" Lightening had been flashing around the outskirts of the Lake all night, so I assumed her eyes were playing tricks on her when I looked up and found the pulsing light she was referring to. It was brighter and bigger than any star in the rest of the sky--but as far as I could tell, it wasn't moving. It was just...winking at us.
"No," I said decidedly. "No, I think its just blinking."
"Oh, well, alright," she said, sounding a little disappointed. Christine's had a fascination since childhood with ancient civilizations, and the conspiracies of alien involvement that shroud these places in mystery. Heck, I'll be the first to admit that I'm right up there with Scully and Mulder when I say "I want to believe!" But when a light's just blinking, I'm thinking, "star," not, "alien on board." When we resumed our conversation, I could tell Christine's mind was somewhere else. Her eyes kept returning to the sometimes-bright, sometimes-not light, but after a few minutes, I managed to put the star completely out of mind, until--
"Look!" Christine stood and pointed. "It IS moving. It's swaying left to right. Can you see it now? Tell me you see this!"
I looked up at the sky again.
My mouth fell opened in astonishment.
Left, right, left again. Like a pendulum, but over huge distances, and with no discernible string in sight.
Right, left. And suddenly I'm not so sure what I'm seeing, but I know that it's moving predictably--methodically. Back and forth, not quite horizontally, but with a dip in the middle. A twinkling smile in the sky that makes me really uncomfortable--so uncomfortable, I can't blink.
Christine and I watch this for 10 minutes, quite literally hypnotized, when suddenly, things change, and all I want to do is run inside and slam the door behind me.
This UFO loses its shit.
It stops moving in a predictable, back-and-forth pattern and starts spazzing out all around the sky. Have you ever sprayed a cat with water, and watched it jump in the air, squirm, and hiss away as fast as possible? Have you ever filled a balloon with air to its fullest capacity--just right before it bursts--but then lost your grip at the very last moment?
Zipping, dipping, zig-zag mania.
That. is. this. light.
The pulsing dot starts wigging out--up, down, diagonal, dips.
Looping around like a loony--and I start to lose my marbles.
"I'm scared," I whisper to Christine. "What is it doing?"
"I have no idea," she whispers back. But then she pauses and asks, "Why are you frightened?" Christine is totally comfortable with this. She's happy, in fact. She wants IT closer.
The only brilliant answer I can come up with is, "because I don't understand what's happening.."
This is unfamiliar.
This is strange.
And yeah, I signed up for both of those things when I said "yes" to Bonderman--but I thought discomfort and I would at least share a kindred-planet!!!
Excuse me for ruling out challenges that were other-worldly.
Bonderlesson learned.
Anyway...
We watched the light dash around for another 45 minutes before it stopped, suddenly, and hung in the sky just like any other star. Winking, slowly. Growing so bright, and then nearly burning out.
Christine and I both held our breath, temporarily stunned at its stillness.
And then the light plunged!
Three times faster than we'd seen it move before! It just rocketed downwards.
Into the Lake? I don't know. It disappeared behind the mountain and we never saw it again.
My host mom says it's normal.
The people who live on the islands of Lake Titicaca don't think twice about seeing OVNI everywhere.
It happens all the time..
GAH.
5. Speaking of things that happen "all the time" but not really.
This is me, eating guinea pig.
I used to have a guinea pig.
BELIEVE IT OR NOT.
I hope you're all doing well! I've crossed the border and am in Arica, Chile now--but that's a list for another time :) Stay safe!
<3 ak
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