Fearless Girls, Wise Women, and Beloved Sisters Grant Lee Buffalo, "Truly" My Christmas List Deviled Eggs Or, anything from my wish list.

Peru Part Four: The "W" is for Women Excerpts from Day Five of My Travel Journal Post Date: 11/16/04 Original Journal Date: 11/02/04 11-02-Tuesday, Ica and Paracas It's Election Day in the States, but we're up at the crack of dawn to drive to Ica to see a museum and then on to Paracas. By crack of dawn, that's what I mean, despite the previous night's partying. You know, both mornings in Nazca, we've come down to breakfast to a breakfast run by a minor Nazi. This morning, she insists that we will not receive tea until we have received our somewhat questionable juice blend drinks. Odd. We pile in the car and Fernando, who, by the way, has the world's best smile, drives us all to Ica where we tour a museum of Nazca and some Incan artifacts. Of course, the three best textiles were stolen from the museum three weeks before hand. This is a trend. Pedro of the Nazca graveyard had told us about how much trouble the graveyard experienced with grave robbers and how sometimes the archeologists couldn't even tell if the right artifacts were in the correct tomb. And now, the actual museum has been robbed. This leads me to my next conundrum. Overall, my experience with the people of Peru has been one that left me envious of their pride. They have pride in themselves and in their work and in their culture. At one point, Fernando, though drunk when he did it, went on for twenty minutes about how proud he was that so much of the world wanted to visit and see the great things in his country. Both Pedro at the graveyard and Alex at the aqua ducts were so proud of their jobs and our interest in the history. Every person we met from Senora Silvia at the hostel to the crazy drunk woman in the restaurant the first night in Nazca were so proud of their culture. And that made me (and at least Joel if not everybody else) envious. But yet they steal their own artifacts to sell them. And I guess that's understandable since this country is so poor and the money from selling just one of those textiles could feed a family for ten or more years, could be the difference between an unheated shack and a home. But still. I guess nothing is ever a pure as you want it to be. Anyway, the museum at Ica is really interesting and even has skulls of the Nazca who did skeletal alterations to make their heads oblong. Creepy, but neat. The seven-color palette versus fourteen-color palette debate rages on and, needless to say, we ask lots of questions. It's all good. We grab some lunch, exchange some money and roll on out to Paracas. Paracus is an ocean-side town. And, because Lisa and I felt we needed at least one night of princess behavior, we are staying at a real ocean-side resort, with mini-golf and paddle boats and real lounge chairs. AND even better than that, it's my turn to get the single room. My own bed. My own bathroom. Such a little upper in the middle of the trip. We're supposed to all go to a national reserve to enjoy nature, but the resort is so nice (and by the way I have the single room) that I decide to stay behind, lounging in my cabana by the ocean and reading. And writing. And sitting in the sun. The South American sun with its more direct angle of rays. Yummy. Perfect. When the kids return from hiking around with nature, we head off to dinner at one of Fernando's favorite local places. I may not have mentioned that one lovely thing about Peru is the constant inclusion of dogs and cats everywhere. Now, if you don't like flea ridden animals near your dinner table, perhaps this is not so much for you. However, I love flea ridden animals, thus meaning that dinner was perfect for me, and also meaning that this exchange happened. Lisa I swear to God, do not put that flea ridden cat up on your lap and let it eat from your plate. You will ruin it for Ho and I, who are going to eat all the food you don't finish. Then, Joel explains to Fernando that though I may have the body of a woman, I have the mindset of una nina, and they both nod like it's some huge understanding. What's even funnier here is that I totally got tired of arguing with Fernando about my age the other day. He kept insisting that I was just mispronouncing "veinte" whenever I would say "treinta," and so finally I just gave up and told him I was veinte anos. Now, of course, I've had to be shaving ten years off my age and lying for the rest of the trip. Ha. Funny. This exchange also happened. Heike (for five full minutes) blahblahblahblahblah Me You are talking to me in German. Do you know I can't understand a word you're saying? Anyway, dinner is amazing. Totally local seafood and a bottle of wine. Wine which I should be paying for alone since I pretty much drank the whole bottle. After dinner, a quick drink with Heike and Fernando, and then back to the room to watch the election results. So, firstly, the feedback from Native Peruvians on the election has been interesting. When we ask them, and believe me that we've asked them, they generally say something like the following: "Well, both Bush the father and this Bush visited Peru and sent a lot of aid down here. So I'm hoping Bush wins." Then, we ask them about the war in Iraq and the lies and the lies and more of the lies and what they think about that. And you know what happens? They look at us blankly like they have no idea what we're talking about. Because they probably don't. And honestly, because I can see how the most important thing to them would be that Bush both showed them respect and gave them much needed aid. I wonder how prevalent that attitude is throughout South America. Rough.scene. Jumping ahead, later in the trip we meet Gavin, who is from the UK. He was hiking the Inca trail when the election results came in and was telling us how upset he was when he saw who won. That leads to this exchange: Gavin I can't believe your country did this to itself. Joel Well, we have a lot of right wing, Southern conservatives who got out and voted. Gavin You know, it's really hard for foreigners to believe that those kind of Americans exist, because it's not the kind of American you meet when you travel or when you meet Americans who are traveling. Me Well, it's really hard for those types of Americans to understand that there's a world view because they don't travel out of the country. Joel It's a viscous circle. So, yeah. Election night was hard on me. Late into the night, I sat in my luxurious single room with many blankets piled on top of me to cut the cold creeping in from the ocean and I just kept saying, "Please don't let it come down to Ohio. He can't win Ohio." And then it came down to Ohio and I turned off CNN Ingles and slept worse than I'd slept on the whole trip. Tune in tomorrow for penguins, dolphins, and even more geek vacationing. While you were gone, we elected a horse's ass for President. What up with political discourse on vacation?