31 January
Since the boiling brains we have come via airplane from Tumbes to Lima and finally to Arequipa. Flying in and out, Lima appeared incomprehensibly huge in the middle of this desert – stretching out forever as everything seems to do here in Peru. Tumbes and Lima are both located at sea level in the coastal rain-shadow desert created by the Andes Mountains to their east. Arequipa is at 2300-2600 meters above sea level in the Andes Mountains.
At my urging we took a bus from Arequipa to Cabanaconde and the Colca Canyon after only a day and a half in Arequipa. This trip knocked me out for a few days. We left Arequipa at 2:00 a.m. The bus ride was 7 hours en todo. I threw up the first time at about 5:30 a.m. – in my hat because I wasn’t prepared for this reaction to the altitude – soroche, the locals call it.
I also fainted earlier in the ride. I just lost consciousness in the dark, I don’t know for how long. I woke up clammy and cold with my head pressed against the window and found myself staring out onto a silvery wet desert-scape. This landscape combined with my foggy head gave me the feeling of floating through a dream. I was so alone, the only person on the bus awake and totally unprepared for the effects of 4800 meters above sea level. I puked again at 7:30 a.m., about 30 minutes before we arrived in Cabanaconde. Then again at noon at the hostal Don Pietro.
Then I slept for 20 hours. Aching feet, ankles, legs, back, arms, head, everything. I was also feeling confused, slow, uncoordinated and weak. My aching head and body convinced me I had caught one of the dreaded coastal diseases like malaria, dengue fever or typhoid. Every list of symptoms in my guide book seemed to describe exactly what I was feeling, but I was too exhausted and sick to panic. I was not so exhausted and sick that I was able to laugh off Jacob’s skepticism over my hypochondrimaniacal self-diagnosis. He was right of course, which I figured out pretty quickly once I made it back down to Arequipa.
The hostal owners in Cabanaconde were friendly and concerned for my well-being. (I mean I was really, really sick). They gave me mate de coca, and when that didn’t help, they gave me a pill to dissolve under my tongue called Caramena - glucosa for “improved circulation”. Jacob is on his second hike while I’ve spent all my time in the hostal in bed except for a short attempt at a hike on which I almost passed out. I have to give up the Colca Canyon and seeing the condors that own these high mountains.
From what I’ve seen, it’s beautiful here. It’s dry and sun-baked until the afternoon rains which come daily in the rainy season. All water here rushes straight down into the canyon, very little actually soaking into the soil that nestles in pockets between rocks. There are rock walls and terraces everywhere. Some peaks are so steep that dirt can’t even attempt to cling to the sides – only rock and the occasional cactus.
When I tried to hike today, we came to a lookout point where the canyon stretched to the left and right and the mountains pushed up ahead of us across the deep valley of the Colca Canyon. The town we were going to looked so close on the other side of the valley – a small village nestled in at the root of the mountain, along a cascading stream. The canyon floor invisible from where we stood. As the sun beat hard against the dry earth with no trees or shade in sight my body screamed “no you idiot – you can’t do this!” I’m not used to my body telling me no but this time I had no choice but to listen.
Huge, vast, empty spaces of land loomed forever in every direction. The path we would take was clearly visible from where we stood except where it disappeared into the narrow canyon far, far below. My legs were already shaking with dehydration, the sun beating me with sense, my lungs protesting the pack after only 20 minutes of walking. Every cell of my body telling me it’s a bad idea to even think about continuing. Thinking about completing this walk was almost as exhausting as the 30 minutes of walking.
After my body won the war between it and my brain, I returned to the hostal and slept some more. Finally, I returned to Arequipa alone to face whatever monster was rampant in my body.
Cabanaconde
Sun pours down
rain shines on
in the land of dualism
opposites attract and repel
they complement
the heights of cabanaconde make me ill
and I feel alone
lonely to the core
mountains so vast
valley so deep
me so small and weak
my traveling companion
far away physically and literally
emotionally and intellectually
my love of solitude
no match for his love of people
of fitting in by being a freak
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