Hector
picked me up at 3 in the morning and we headed over to his house where his
mother, father and 3 of his mothers’ students waited for a mini van to come
pick us up. I was headed to the
jungle. No, it is not as exotic as
it sounds, but it was fabulous, at times.
By 4 in the morning we were all packed and headed on our way. It was bone chilling cold and his
mother demanded that Hector and I sit in the front so I can see the view. It was with great intention but at 4 in
the morning the view doesn’t want to be seen and I do not want to see it. We quickly fell asleep along with the
rest of the crew. And I mean all
of us. 2 hours into the trip,
wrapped up in alpaca blankets and layered by the nines, we hear a major thump
and our heads go crashing into the right windows as the car swerves to the left
and panic begins to erupt over the sound of the puttering motor. Within a few minutes all the men climb
into the dark, rainy night and proceed to find a mini boulder to place under
the front right wheel. The driver,
I will call him SP for sleeping beauty, rolls the van back and forth until it
is finally resting on top of this boulder giving him enough room to raise the
car and twist on another tire.
Hector’s
mother then kicks us out of the front into the back seat because she is now
aware that she must remain awake the rest of the travels or we may not make it
back in time. [The On Monday
Hector informed me that this same driver in the same van took another trip to
Quillabamba the following day and this time one of the passengers wasn’t so
lucky. He ended up flipping the
car over and one traveler died.]
So
we climbed in the back with our ensemble of covers and sheets and puffy jackets
and again went back to sleep. This
time we woke up, it was also because we were being thrown back and forth by the
side of the roads but also because the nausea began to make itself known. So Hector tells the guys in front of us
to let his mother know that we are feeling quite sick in the back and then they
lean forward and whisper to his mother.
2 minutes later I see something being passed back to us and his mother,
thoughtful and sweet in all her ways (seriously though) passes back a white
plastic bag the size of my palm and sends the message to aim well. So for the next 2.5 hours I am crushing
my eyes closed while I try to imagine being somewhere else for the sake of my
own cleanliness and the odour that can kill all the others if I slip up in my
guided meditation for even a moment. The only reprise was that 3 hours into the ride (an
hour after the “accident”) all of a sudden the climate changed drastically and
I went from having difficult breathing and shivering all the time to enjoying
the amazing influx of air that flowed naturally into my body and made me feel
at peace and calm and serene for the first time in awhile. This was due solely to the fact that we
were now a few hundred meters lower and it was hot. I was stripping layers like off like it was my last
opportunity and then the sweat began to drip from my forehead and my thighs
squeaked together and then again I was uncomfortable. Haha.
So
we finally make it and the first thing everyone does is climb into bed and
sleep for another 4 hours. It was
hot and exhausting and no one could move.
Jump to Sunday where we experience Carnival all over again. It was AMAZING. It was 300 times more exciting than in
Cuzco. Dancers from over 30
regions came in their brightly colored folk outfits and strange music. They lined up at the beginning of the
route and waited for the incoming assault. As each group began their ascent to the main square, men,
women and children from rooftops, doorways, taxis, cars, motorcycles, windows,
etc. threw buckets and buckets of
water on these innocent entertainers.
Unlike Cusco though, it was hot and the water was welcome. People were pelting water balloons,
spraying shaving cream and the best was colored powder that they threw (blues,
pinks, yellows, reds) on all the soaking passerby’s so that it felt like we
were in a Dr. Seuss book.
While I never made it to the plaza for fear of getting my only clothing
wet, I was later told by Hector’s mother that the fire trucks came and even
whipped out their hoses and sprayed unmercifully on all the plaza. People were dripping, dancing, singing
and happy. It was a most amazing
experience.
By
3PM we got back in the minivan (different one this time) and headed home. As we traveled we passed little
villages of 15-20 people who were dancing around a tree by the side of the
road. The tree was filled with
decorated gifts and men and women held hands as they circled the tree and then
took turns trying to cut it down.
This happened throughout all the villages in the jungle. Hector told me that the person who
knocks down the tree not only gets all the presents in it but is then
responsible for decorating the tree the following year. Also, this was a perfect opportunity
for the bored kids to come running after us with their own water pistols to
continue the water game. It was a
continual cycle. We were dying of
heat and had to roll down the windows and then as we approached a village we
scrambled to roll the windows back up before we were the target of mayhem. We were successful most of the
time. Again, Hector and I were the
only ones who still remained dry throughout the whole weekend. We dodged water attacking us from every
which way by hiding behind trucks, ducking under canopies and maneuvering
through packs of heavily embroidered ladies dancing.
About
3 hours into the trip, before we hit the cold front, the minivan stopped so
everyone could have a bathroom break.
Hector and I got out and admired the view. We were literally in the middle of the mountains with
nothing for miles and only fresh, beautiful air and peace and silence. His family and friends bought some food
and water and we stood at the edge of the road trying to drink in the
serenity. 4 minutes into our
little getaway, we hear a huge bus chugging up the mountain so of course we
took the necessary precautions and stepped further onto the edge without
needing to turn around or acknowledge what was about to pass. And then it hit us. Screaming kids stuck their heads out
the windows as other kids emptied their full buckets of water all over the back
of us. Freezing, cold, wet, nasty
water and our very dry and peaceful selves. We both screamed at the instant the water hit, shocked at
what happened and then we fell to the floor laughing knowing that it was only just
that we too got our share of Carnival.
