Are you paying attention? I guess not ey.

From a wonderful last day in Lima into a state of total confusion.
I visit the embassy in the morning and go wandering about in Miraflores after. I pass stores and coffee places asking around for a photo camera place where they might be able to fix my camera. In the first place not even my SD card seems to work, but I´m stubborn enough not to give up after my first try. So when I come to the second store.. it DOES work and I can rejoice about the fact that my photo's have not gone to the same place where Jesus lost his sandals once.

I bumb into a T-shirt of Socrates and decide to buy it on the scene. 20 soles equals around 7 dollars, cheap enough. Even though Lima is slightly more expensive than Northern Peru, it´s still all very affordable. After asking some more people I get the directions to a technician that might be able, please pretty please to fix my machine I´ve come to miss. Not having the camera present is like being nude almost at some point. Or you pass by a beautiful scene or moment grab for your pocket and.. empty. So when I found out that they couldn´t fix it, I bought a new one. I mean, I have so much travel ahead still.

I say goodbye to the Acuña family. They radiate lots of positive loving energy and when I close the door I felt a touch of beauty right there. I make it by taxi to el bar ingles in one of the most fancy hotels in Lima. I have a date with Irina. We met in Huanchaco at the beach and we proved our suspicion to be able to have a good conversation to be true. We jump a cab to the center and take a last strawl before keeping it on a see you again rather than a goodbye.

I hurry to the starbucks where Herless and his girlfriend and Gabriela are already waiting. We grab a chai and a chai tea latte before running around hyper actively through the Mal and finding a spot to eat dinner. What a weird concept we walk into: Hooters and food. Would the girls that work there actually have their asses and boobies measured at the job interview? I don't get the concept though. We go there to eat food. Why would anybody want to be served by taste distracting girls wearing clothes that accentuate all there features with such intensity, it get´s hard to have a normal conversation or enjoy your meal. Who would combine a strip joint with a restaurant? I mean, really. You either eat or you focus on girls but the two together.. weird match. Strangely enough the girl who took our order keeps coming back to ask us whether we wish to have anything else: well, how about our food we ordered half an hour ago? She forgot, we paid our drinks and were out of there.

The next place served better food so it seemed, so maybe it worked in our benefit after all. Though I committed another stupidity after our meal. I had to take out money form the ATM.
They work just the other way around as in the Netherlands. WHY? WHY?!? WHYYYYY?!?!
They gave me my money before they gave me my card back and being in the middle of a goodbye operation I act to fast and leave my freakin' card in the machine! I only find out when I am about to board my plane later that night around 05:15 a.m. MIERcoles!

I get off in Cusco and haste to make a call in order to block the card. I have not slept all night. I put my wallet on the phone and when the Norwegian number doesn't work I ask the lady of the phone shop for any possible explanations. AS I turned away, somebody must have thought that wallet belonged to him/her and took it. That was BANG number two. Confused checking the phones and my pockets I realize I have now no money whatsoever, not even to take a cab to the hostel let alone pay for staying there. So I grab for my Spanish bankcard and slide it into another bankmachine. I give in the pin of my other bank account but realize it before trying anything. I get my card out and slide it back in again to give in the correct number this time. It didn't bother: it swallowed my card all the same. BANG number three. Now I`m at the point of nervous breakdown. Breath Kaj, breath. I find my credit card and take out 500 soles from a machine just like the one in Lima. I don't forget my card but see how I can just perform another operation without having to give my personal pin code a second time!!! Ogmog. That would mean that anyone that found my card stuck in Lima could have just run off with 2900 dollars. Ok, now I´m upset.

I call Anitra in Norway, since the phone number of the bank is not correct even though I have it on a business card printed out. And she, thank goodness gets the card blocked. According to my account the money was still there. However there is a slight possibility that it has been taken, though has n´t come through to the bank yet. Would I need to stay here and find a job or what?
the woman in the second phone shop tries to calm my down.

I find a taxi and explain the driver what happened and ask him if he can be nice to me and charge me the normal 3,50 they would charge a local (the phone shop lady just explained that that´s the normal price, but foreigners are always overpriced for 4, or 5 soles. Now this Jerk was from another level. I plead for his goodness and explain him my conditions and he STILL is interested in ripping me off and having me pay 20 soles! Es la tarife he says showing a card with different numbers for different places. Yeah right, A card he printed out himself probably. Usted esta loco! I tell him. Que maltratado. Dejame salir, ya. I take my bags and get off the taxi and command him to take my bag from the back. Son of a bitch. I think that in my humanity, even though I would be trained to rip off tourists, when I guy that already lost two bankcards and his wallet would come to my cab, I wouldn´t even charge the poor bugger the one dollar fee.

Now which characteristic is more genuine to human nature? His or mine?

Depending on conditioning and state of well being, all is relative. I was flabbergasted yet again with how people can act. I decide to drink a mate de coca first and calm down. I do so in a restaurant where a woman treats the waitress like a piece of shit. In my mind I walk up to her and tell her as a gentle man: good morning miss, how art thou today? Do you feel good? Had a nice morning? I just observed your way of addressing the waitress and I wondered how you would feel if I would have addressed you in that manner. I wish God will give you the double of what you wish me, miss, have a nice day. In real life I merely think these thoughts and lack to perform.

Fractions in time.

Yesterday night Ivan had to go back to Tortuga to finish his internship. We embrace our goodbye as he puts me on a trustworthy cab and I yell at him while passing by: Que en tan poco tiempo ya se puede aprender a querer alguien no? (That in so little time we can learn to love someone.) We had loads of fun while wearing the mask of spiderman, eating grapes and going to the beach. Most stories got recorded, but unfortunately, I can be so unthoughtful.
I had put my camera in the back pocket of my newly received bermuda and went into the pacific. I have still some hope left that after cleaning my card and camera with alcohol some of the material might have survived, but I fear the worst.

Herless, his girlfriend Diana and me in a taxi on our way to meet up with Ivan and his friends in order to have a blast. The taxidriver receives a call and stops to take note. He takes more than 5 minutes when we tell him, sir, we are in a hurry in case you didn´t notice. Sir, we CAN take another taxi too. He seems to ignore us and is so focused on his next ride appointing the directions.. I decide to get out of the car. Herless and Diana get out when another taxi comes by. Only now the driver comes to his senses ad asks whether we do not wish to continue. I had never seen Herless get mad until that moment. 'Que andas a la mierrrrrrda, te reviento el puto caro si no te vayas inmediatamente!' Wow. Now that is some serious latin heated attitude. I crack up since Herless is the most harmless guy I know, always calm and at ease. He just threatened to trash the taxidriver´s car with some serious anger. How unexpected and therefore how funny it seemed. We take another taxi and arrive at the peruvian hour (one hour late).

We danced our asses off in ´el serjante pimienta´ it was saturday night carnaval. Some people had paint in their faces becasue of the tradiation to splash water on eachother or even paint the face of the person standing close to you. We got pretty drunk too.

I came to Lima by nightbus (buscama) after leaving Huaraz. I suffered from some Sorroche during my trip to Chavin at 4200 meters altitude that even the coca tea couldn´t undo. I felt dizzy and with nauseas during most of my waking hours. Nontheless after having met up with Reed and Lauren and our personal mountain guide couchsurfer Victor Hugo, we went Rockclimbing there and man, did we love it. I managed to climb over an upside down obstacle into a vertical route and surpassed myself in doing so. When I arrived at the top I was glowing with the feeling of havin managed while my lungs hurted because of the lack of oxygen. A great experience.

We kept circling the main square and market to find the most precious small gifts. A llama like creature spat at me without saliva after having carressed his left ear. I had a tea with a girl that told me about Huaraz in the first place. She worked at a casino where I picked her up and while waiting won 20 soles on the slotmachines. After having stayed two nights in a hostel with great views over the snowpeaked mountains we surfed Victor Hugo´s apartment for travelers for two more nights and watched a movie or played chess. Victor said he sucked at it, but turned out to be lying. The first day he took us hiking through the area and we had milkshakes and coffee. My last day there he promissed to beat me in 8 moves. Instead I won, but he was high on rum.

The woman in the hostel told me all sorts of stories about climbers and their deaths for not wanting to bring a guide while ascending. She seemed to be a lovely caring woman who had the families of the dead in her hostel crying over their lost sons.

My time in Lima is ending for now. I will fly to Cuzco tonight at 05:40. Lima is not as ugly as people advised me on forehand. I´ve learned to recognize the kind of taxi´s to take and the kinds not to take. People have been mugged taking the wrong taxi. My judge of character and the presense of danger I seem to be able to feel quite clearly guide me through streets and faces.

Two bricheras (girls that try and get with tourists in order to obtain something) approached me the other night. One seemed to be learning from the other. My intuition stated clearly that they were up to something. It made me feel sad. Such a pretty girl learning how to play out foreigners in order to rob their wallets, or god knows what. I told the younger student about my gutfeeling and how I felt about it. They left shorly after. Nothing bad happened. My Limenean friends were there to keep an eye on the situation. Still the experience of looking them in the eye in direct contact looking for one another´s intentions was a weird experience. When they left the ambience cleared up and we danced boldly. I shared the afterbite of being drunk, my chicken burger, with one of the streetcats before taking the taxi home.

Peruvian food includes shells with onions and seafruit, the cow´s heart, giant rats, big corn and loads of different methods to prepare chicken mostly drained in a hot sauce called Agil.

I´m almost off to the mountains and jungle. I will need either ginger of pills, along with coca tea, lots of coca tea. Then it´s further to Puno and into Bolivia, La Paz. The ambassador of couchsurfing La Paz will host me. People told me I cannot miss out on the desert of salt with all kidns of colours. I hope my camera can be revived.

surrounded by Peru's top of the notch.

Destiny got its ways to sneak up on you sometimes ey. One moment I find myself crossing the desert for a second time, back to Guadalupe to catch my ride to Trujillo, where I thought my luck left me; the next moment I am standing with a new found friend in the-Huanchaca carnaval, only one meter away from miss universe peru 2008. What are the odds?
After saying goodbye to my travel compagnion Reed and his Reiki friend Sherry I got into the bus waving them goodbye smiling. The two and half an hour busride brings me to Trujillo Terminal Terrestre where Abrahan awaits me. A fellow Couchsurfer who picks me up and brings me to a room on the rooftop. i climb the small shed to get a view over all the city and its slums. I forgot I don't like cities. I like to live in a nice city, but visiting these grey mass of buildings with people running around and cars contaminating the air with noise and carbonoxyde.. It's not the favorite part of my travels through South America. Abrahan shows me the city centre and we grab a bite. We cross the central plaza and visit the bar at the corner. Rock posters of famous artitst everywhere acompagnied by their voices shrilling through the speakers. There we meet Ivan, asking for fire and there's a click. We decide to do the beach the next day together.

After 5 hours of sleep ivan calls in, wakey wakey, eggs and bakey! Batido de platano for breakfast if possible and soon after we are squeezed into a minibus with aprox. 25 others. It's about 36 degrees celcius: minor conditions that would make a beach visit appealing.
The night was almost a punishment. Being on antibiotics against some sort of fungus that appears in changing climate conditions i can't drink a drop of alcohol. All that while being in the place to be with Peruvian's most beautiful dancing around you, including miss universe at three feet. Loud latin music and the stomping feet make the ambiance tremble. We dance 'alegre' and laugh. We are surrounded by girls smiling back and even those with boyfriends throw looks that breathe an air of femme fatal on a lookout. I can't take much more much longer. Once we get 'home', ourt hostel is sealed and no-one's there. We break in through the back kitchen door, moving around the cooking equipment in order to get in. We hit the sack and sleep profound: my dreams one blurry haze of black-haired girls showing their teeth.

Rocks, sand and birds.

It is clouded. A car loaded with supplies carries Manuel, Reed and me on its back and takes a right. The road passes through bald rock formations and turns into gravel. There is no green anywhere nearby to be seen. The car accelerates fast and with aprox. 80 kms p/h we enter the desert. The driver must be knowing what he's doing as he seems to be a rally courier. After some sharper curves and ups and downs where I need to hold on tight the air becomes heavy, filled with the smell of burned garbage. That's how they process their waste here. Luckily it doesn't last for long. After 1 km the air gets fresher again. 3 kms ahead I can smell the sea.

We are on our way to la Barranca; a small town in primitive conditions next to the pacific in the Northern coast of Peru. I'm making my way down from Ecuador and I've entered officially my third week in the southern continent.

Ever since we've entered Peru I feel like I´m the guy in any Axe commercial. Girls constantly smile at me and some smile and wave for my attention. In comparison to Ecuador, Peru seems less conventional. When we arrive at the village it is all ruins and grey scaled colours. The ocean is grey, the sky is grey, the rocks are grey, the houses are grey. We drop our stuff and go for a walk. The local girls start laughing as soon as we walk nearby.

It's hightide and there are three surfers in the water. There is a deserted football field and a volley net, no one is playing sports, but some kids are enjoying being bashed by the incoming waves.

We arrived from Piura. The first city were we spent the night and hit the cinema to kill the time. Piura has very little to do, so when we found a cinema for 7,50 soles (2 dollar 50) we saw Seven Pounds (translated as 7 almas) and finally I found one of those movies that provoked my tears again. I recommend you to go see it.

Coming from Guayaquil to Piura, that's a ten hour busride. Just after having falling in a profound state of sleep (after 5 hours) you have to get out and do the migration procedures. a couple dozen of sleepwalking travelers stand in line for a passport stamp, filling out a form of citizenship. When we arrive at our first Peruvian stop the air if filled with an insane amount of birds. Everywhere they fly. When we look up there are so many nests we can't even count them. All of that in a desertlike landscape: surreal.

Poco a poco dicen.

A veces me pregunto que sera lo que doy a las personas en mi alrededor que me dan tanto cariño, amor y amistad. A veces me siento como si tomo mucho y no doy nada de vuelto y me hace sentir medio mal. Puede ser que en mis recuerdos pasan muchos regalos lindos, tesoros que me dieron y luego pienso, que di yo? Una de mis metas personales es aprender a dar mas, ser mas atento y agradezco todo momento en que aprendo algo, sea la cortesia o alguna otra cosa.

Hay costumbres que son dificiles de olvidar, cosas dificiles de aprender, pero con la fe y la consistencia todo tiene huecos que dejan que uno cambia de camino o destino.

Hablando de destinos, hoy parto por Trujillo. Tuve una noche acogadora en la playa al lado de Guadalupe con gente peruana calorosa, me senti poco frio en comparacion a ellos. Pero siempre se puede comporarse con peces mas grandes y peces mas pequeños sintiendose superior o inferior. De eso no se trata la vida. Otra meta que tengo es aprender a apreciar lo buena que es otra gente o lo bueno que es en hacer ciertas cosas en lugar de tener celos. Poder apreciar los resultados de trabajo duro de otras personas y felicitarles, y no comparar y pensar, y yo? yo que? Este viaje es un viaje espiritual como todos viajes lo son. Tengo sabiduria pero no es consistente. Momentos claros me acompañan durante mintuos, a veces horas en los cuales veo claramente y es obvio que se queda por adelante y que se queda por atras. Pero rapido se me escapa y los estelas en el agua aparecen de nuevo, nublando la vista.

Claridad, ven a mi lado, sea mi amante para siempre. Cuando la mente no hable mucho y tenemos claro los pasos de camino. Aspiro tenerte mas presente que ausente en mi vida.

Si uno se puede abrir a la vulnerabilidad, es poder. Si uno sale de su mundo..'la unica forma de salir, es entrar.'

Espero que toda la experiencia se ajunta hasta un cierto punto en lo cual que mirare hacia atras, viendo la senda que nunca se ha de volver a pisar, pero veo las cosas importantes que constuyeron el camino en si y que los podere conectar para dibujar una linea que apunta como flecha a algun destino que cumplir. Espero que sea un destino que va acompañado por los deseos del universo, de Dios y de mi mismo.

Pero al mismo tiempo.. se como se puede hacer reir a Dios.Tu sabes como? Contandole tus planes. Cuentas tus planes a Dios y el empieza a reirse, puede ser hasta a carcajadas. La vida gira y gira y gira y nosotros entramos puertas distintas en este labirinto. Tras cada puerta, cada posibilidad de decision, nos abren caminos. La puerta siempre esta abierta invitandonos entrar mientras nosotros solemos quedarnos en costumbres y circulos, viciosos o no.

Pierdo partes de mi ser y luego encuentro otras partes de mi ser que hasta ahora nunca fui. Para poder ser diferente, hay que saber soltar. Me siento como un vaso lleno, y esta por colmar. Por eso queria visitar los chamanes. Porque yo guardo siempre todo lo que siento en lugar de expresarlo. Apenas lloro, apenas rio a carcajadas, siendo tan vibrante y saltante..

deberia poder expresar mas de forma lacrimosa.

Que se yo. La vida es corta dicen. Hay que vivirla al maximo dicen. Pero hay tantas cosas que nos impiden volar. Tantos lazos que atan. No quiero morir pensando que nunca hice lo que siempre habia querido. Una camiseta me mostro una interpretacion todavia mejor de aquel pensamiento: No se trata de como mueres, se trata de como vives. En un eterno paradojico vivimos. Otro dia me comento una chica que se canso de sobrevivir y empezo a vivir. Divididos estamos entre nuestros deseos, cumplir a las espectativas de otros, impulsos nuevos, costumbres buenos y malos y vivimos en circulos que nos tragan en totalidad.

Puede ser que vuelo con tanta velocidad que paso a mi mismo. Que mi volar mismo es un circulo que me traga. Por que vuelo tanto? Este viaje se trato de enfrontarme a mi mismo y a miedo al continente latino. Para definirme mas y crecer como persona. Aunque definir es limitar, me gustaria definirme mas en el aspecto de crecer mas como persona estable. Al parecer tengo mucho camino por adelante. Poco a poco dicen.