Confesion del corazon

Dia 23 del proyecto
Valparaiso, Chile

To my beloved San Francisco,

I have missed you, my beautiful city on the bay. Your hills, fog, Victorian architecture, colorful streets and curious characters. I promised you my heart many years ago and you have faithfully kept it enamored.

My fair city, I have a confession to make. I have fallen in love with another city. It is not the first time my heart has been led astray. Barcelona captured my heart before you, with its hills and the sea. Architectural greats like Gaudi and artists like Miro. Friendly Catalonians who indulged my Spanish. Perhaps I should not be so surprised. These cities with their old, deep souls call out to me as I meander through their narrow streets. Rich stories emerge from a simple tag or worn cobblestones. 

South American desert dreams

Dia 21 del proyecto, 
Entre San Pedro de Atacama y Valparaiso, Chile

Many people consider deserts to be barren and boring. Lifeless with strange plants and few visible animals. It is easy to dismiss, especially in northern Chile, the landscape as such. But to do so would be to miss some of the most spectacular terrain on this planet.

The Atacama desert is enormous--it spans about a third of northern Chile, a decent chunk of northwestern Argentina, most of Bolivia and all of southern Peru. It is the driest desert on earth, with many places never recording rainfall in the history of (western) civilization. The ground ranges from the peaks of the Andes to the altiplano, or high plane, to enormous sand dunes. Vegetation can be standard cactus to clumps of indigenous grasses designed to withstand the incredibly dry conditions.

In spite of the dryness, the Atacama is a geologist's dream. Salt is prevalent in nearly every area; crystals form in various patterns from traditional salt pans to fields that look like the top of an apple crumble. Lithium, copper and nitrates are also found in huge quantities and are mined by all four countries. Volcanoes dot the mountain-scape, with the active ones occasionally sending up a puff of gas as a reminder of their presence.

Winter beach bunny

Dia 18 del proyecto
Entre de Iquique y San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

After a day in Iquique, Chile, I learned three things:

1. Jack Johnson's biggest fan base is not in Maui, but in a South American beach hostel.
2. Winter in South America along the Pacific is the same as summer in San Francisco--foggy but good waves.
3. A day alternating between naps, reading and walking along the beach is needed to break up two very long and intense bursts of plane/bus rides.

Foodie report #1 - Peru

Dia 14 del proyecto
Aeropuerto de La Paz, Bolivia

It is no secret within the foodie community that Lima is a fast-rising star. The globally renowned chef, Gaston Acurio, became famous for elevating his country's cuisine onto the international stage. The expansion of the elegant cevicheria, La Mar, to San Francisco and New York, introduced the world to Peruvian-style fine dining. I've been to the one in SF several times and was excited to taste more of what the country had to offer.

Machu Picchu

Dia 12 del proyecto,
Entre de Cusco y Lima

Halfway up the steep and uneven stone staircase, I switched off my headlamp. The sun was up but still behind the mountain. The gates to the trail opened at 5am and by 4:30am there was a queue of at least 200 hikers. Fortunately our group was one of the first 30 or so people in line and only had a half hour to go before the entrance gates.

After third day, our group of sixteen had been reduced to eight as most people had taken the four-day walk option. The gates to Machu Picchu opened at 6am and the stairs gave us a half hour head start over the buses.

So what would possess a person to climb 1,700 stairs in the black of early morning? Take a look for yourself here. Machu Picchu was everything you could imagine and more. Absolutely breathtaking.

Sube la montana

Dia 12 del proyecto,
Cusco, Peru

The city of Cusco is roughly 3,300 meters above sea level, nestled comfortably in a valley. Albeit a very high valley. Most guide books recommend arriving a day or two early (and consuming copious amounts of coca tea) to acclimatize before trekking. I agree completely; if your trek only stays at 3,300 meters, one or two days is perfect. However, neither the official experts nor this trekker have solutions for dealing with the 1,300-meter (3,900-foot) climb in the first 25 kilometers (15 miles) of the Salkantay trail.

While the classic Inca trail is the most famous, it is one of seven main footpaths that lead into Machu Picchu. The Salkantay trail is one and is named for the mountain which supplied most of the city's water. Quecha lore says that during a bad drought, the ancient Incan king sent his two sons out to find water. The younger brother, named Salkantay, died and became the mountain. His older brother's tears for his death became the glacier peak.

It doesn't seem so tough when I type it. But it humbled this marathon-running San Franciscan.

Photo issues

Day 8 of the project, 
Cuzco, Peru

A few folks have asked me about photos on my blog. I am a firm believer that a photo can speak a thousand words...especially when the words are coming from me. Brevity, as you may have discovered, is not my strong suit.

However, I am REALLY struggling to figure out how to get them to post properly from my iPad. The Blogger app from Google is a piece of sh*t and the Safari experience isn't much better. From what I can tell, I must upload my photos from my phone to Google photos (formerly known and loved as Picasa) and then I can add them to the blog. I have tried a few times unsuccessfully.

So I reach out to my technically able friends (especially those from Google) who might have some suggestions of good alternatives. Any and all help is appreciated.

Dos Limas

Day 7 of the project,
On the road to Cuzco

Like so many cities around the world, Lima is a city divided between the have's and have not's. I spent two days wandering around the wealthy suburbs that line the coast. Beautiful and modern buildings, immaculate parks (complete with tennis courts and football pitches), casinos and shopping malls. Not to mention the amazing food and diverse array of options. It was easy to forget about the reality of most Limenos.

It is in plain view now. The bus is flying along the highway, passing the barrios that teem with shoddy half-constructed apartments, no hint of grass (just garbage and dirt), dirty markets and questionable restaurants. The food might taste good, but it would most certainly upset my delicate first-world stomach.

The stark contrast surfaces many thoughts and feelings. What is poverty? I certainly know how academics and economists define it. But there is a distinction between being poor and suffering.  Obviously the failure to meet basic needs is considered suffering. And the seven-figure incomes of the technorati of Silicon Valley are at the other extreme. Beyond that is a sea of gray area. In the spectrum of privilege, where does one go from being impoverished to poor to middle class to rich to extremely rich? And where are people the happiest?

Lost and found

Day 4 of the project 
Lima, Peru

One of my unspoken fears was that I had lost my Spanish. The lack of formal study and any semblance of verbal practice over the last few years left me with a scary number of blanks and "yo no se"s when walking through San Francisco's Mission district. Chile and Peru are full of English speakers, but South America and Spain are the only places where I can hope to converse in the local language. And hopefully reinvigorate my Americanized brain.

Researchers have compared the brain to a network of roads. The ones that get the heaviest use are like freeways and information flows quickly. The least used are back roads must be navigated slowly and with care. The metaphor makes sense, though I was terrified that my Spanish was going to be like an Arkansas dirt road: pot-hole-riddled and embarrassingly red.

Diente sucre

Day 3 of the project
Santiago, Chile

One of the greatest pleasures of travel is tasting new things. Especially sweet things. Chocolate is preferred, but new kinds of fruit, candy, pastries, cake and ice cream are wonderful. Each country has its own specialty and the corporate candy giants have made country-specific delights in colorful packaging. Though if I'm being honest, I have just as much love for dessert in my home country as I do on the road. I digress. 

While a single day in Santiago is not nearly enough time to try everything in the pasteleria, I was estatic to discover the Chileans love dulce de leche just as much as their Argentine counterparts. For those who have not experienced this divine culinary invention, it is a thick, creamy caramel paste. It is liberally applied to any pastry known man. It is mixed into ice cream. It is paired with chocolate. It is even eaten by spoon (don't judge). It can be made by slowly boiling sweetened condensed milk for several hours, though most recipes advise caution due to sticky explosions.

It begins

Day 1 of the project

It's a weird sensation, getting out of the bed you've slept in more or less every day for the past six years and knowing you won't crawl back into it for six months. A strange combination of excitement, nerves, sleep deprivation, satisfaction and anticipation.

A close friend asked what I am thinking. My mind is actually quiet and calm; aside from a few calls prior to my departure, I have little else going through my head. Around 10pm last night it became clear that if it wasn't already done, it isn't going to get done. The big stuff is in place and I can survive without little things. Miraculously the only thing I have forgotten (so far) is a flashlight.

My heart, on the other hand, is racing and screaming with a million different emotions. Many teary and extremely personal goodbyes have been said over the last few weeks. The toughest were in the last 24 hours. Yet all of those goodbyes were said with love, affection and goodwill. I am beyond lucky to have so much and could not have made it to this point without those people. 

It is humbling though, to put this beginning into perspective. Millions of people each day pack their lives into a bag and begin a pilgrimage. The vast majority do so under duress or persecution, seeking safety and a better life. I am so unbelievably fortunate that mine is one of choice and personal enlightenment. It will be a constant reminder throughout my journey and will not be taken lightly. 

So without further ado, it is time to pick up my pack, say farewell to the U.S. and hello to my biggest adventure yet.

Pause

7 days until the project begins

It never ceases to amaze me how fast time goes. Two weeks ago I was working a full time job; seven days ago I was visiting two of the biggest and (arguably) best U.S. national parks. Today I sit on a plane back to San Francisco. In exactly one week I will board another plane bound for South America.

Yet there are clear points when just for a moment the clock seems to stop. It's as if fate is giving us a chance to appreciate the present before it rushes into the past. The last two weeks have given me a rather large dose of those pauses and it has taken a while to fully absorb them.