Friday, February 6, 2009

Tiff arrives in Cusco amid smuggling busts and an insulin pump crisis

Well, the unthinkable has happened. I am prettymuch caught up on blogging, just in time for the arrival of my mommy at 7 am tomorrow! Which of course means that for the next three weeks, I will probably fall behind again.

I do, of course, have a few stories from the last three days, which I have spent in Cusco.

First of all, I had the most interesting bus ride of my life between Copacabana in Bolivia to Cusco in Peru. I had purchased a ticket to leave at 10:30 in the morning, and when I arrived at the ticket office, I was informed there was a "problem" with the bus. Of course there was a problem with the bus! Apparently, it couldn't arrive because there was a roadblock caused by a strike, and the bus coming from La Paz couldn't get through. So I would have to wait for the 1:30. I was mildly perturbed, even though there was nothing anyone could do to have prevented this sort of thing, because I had spent the last of my Bolivianos because I thought I was leaving. For unexplained reasons, taking the 1:30 bus elicited a refund of 20 Bolivianos, which was just enough for an hour of internet and a cheap lunch. Things were shaping up okay!

The 1:30 bus arrived and off I went, a quick hop to the border and through immigration yet again. The Peruvian offical gave me a hearty "Como estas?" and I was in Peru! Skirting the edge of the lake, we arrived in Puno and changed buses, which is where things became very interesting. All of us gringos had to jump different buses, and I ended up in a rattly contraption filled with cholas and their huge bundles. Several bundles and cholas had invaded my seat, and they basically told me to find a different seat, so I sat in the only available row. I was soon joined by a jovial Brazilian. I had planned to spend the day listening to my ipod, but he was so chatty and interesting that I quickly abandoned that plan. Along the way, I learned that we had a lot in common: political science majors, he wants to teach, we were both fatties back in the day and carry with us the emotional scars and a little remaining physical baggage as well (I love boys with tummies!). It was so nice to have a genuine conversation with someone in Spanish, something I haven't really had since I left Chillan. Will, being Brazilian, could talk for days, and I spent a lot of time listening to his stories and thoughts about life. We have similar political interests as well, and I think he was secretly impressed I knew a little something about Brazilian politics (thank you, senior-year thesis, you have finally paid off!). Soon, we had to change buses again to accomodate all the cholas and their baggage, and we made sure to get seats together. He began to teach me how to hit on men in Portuguese, and soon we were talking about past relationships (well, he was, anyway) and other crazy stories from our past, followed by some Bob Dylan and Manu Chau on my ipod. It was by far the best first date I have ever had. It even ended with some kissing and cuddling. I can think of no better way to pass 12 hours on a bus, and I wish I had caught onto this sooner! I am actually pretty devastated that I will never see this character again...he was so right for me! And available...I never like available men! (I realize, of course, that he was not that available, being a resident of Rio de Janiero, thousands of miles away from Seattle.)

Another interesting annectdote about our time on the bus...the cholas were smuggling contraband (shoes, electronics, etc.) from Bolivia and trying to take it into Paraguay, and we were stopped by the police not once but twice! The first time, they pulled a chola and all her baggage out, and she put up quite a resistance. The second time, when we were right on the edge of Cusco, we were stopped and then a police escort took us to a police station. On the ride, the cholas were throwing things out the windows, and trying to hide the contraband among other passengers' baggage. It was utter madness! When we reached the station, the police ordered everyone off the bus, and the cholas threw a fit and demanded that we stay where we were. Will led us all off the bus, and into a freezing downpour. Hello Cusco! The gringos were excused and we all took taxis into town. Earlier that day, I had thought I would take a nice, scenic busride and arrive in Cusco by 7:30. Here I was in the middle of a downpour at 1:30 in the morning in the middle of a smuggling bust! I can't say that I didn't enjoy every minute of the day, though, since it led me to Will. I woefully said goodbye to my Brazilian boyfriend, and took a taxi to my hostel, alone again (naturally).

The next day, I woke up ready to do some exploring and run errands to prepare for the eminent arrival of my mom! After my shower, I noticed my insulin pump displaying a low battery warning. I went to unscrew the cap and replace the battery, and the plastic cap snapped off, leaving the screw part and the battery stuck inside my pump! Even if I had been able to extract the battery, it would have done me no good, as a new battery would not have stayed in place. I panicked for a moment, then went to an internet cafe an called my pump company. They would be able to get a replacement pump to my mom the next day, and she could bring it with her to visit me. I would only have to be on shots for four days! Although this seemed to work out okay, I was devastated by the failure of a machine that my life depends on. Also, I hate taking shots. It's so hard. I don't know how I did it for so long. Another little hiccup: my pump warranty ran out on January 17, 2009...so I just missed getting a new pump for free. Not really sure how I am going to pay for this new pump, but both my parents and the pump representative assured me I could work that out when I get home.

I spent most of that day on the internet talking on the phone to various family members and friends. It was nice to connect with everyone, especially since I was feeling a little down about my pump situation. I would like to point out that my pump has only failed me twice, and both times I have been out of the country! I cannot wait to hook up with my diabetic pal Andrea, who had a pump failure recently in Europe, to commiserate! God I love my diabetic friends!

The next day, I had planned to do some sight-seeing, but my bloodsugars were fluctuating (and still are) between 50 and 350, which makes me feel like crap. I spent the morning in a cafe, waiting for my bloodsugar to come down. I was feeling a little fragile, and for some reason, listening to Modest Mouse's "Positive Negative," I had a little meltdown. Tears started rolling down my cheeks, and I had my first South-American cry. To put things in perspective, I didn't even cry about ____, really, so I was feeling pretty low. However, I pulled myself together, and soon the darling waiter was drawing me a map of good dance clubs. I intend to explore one tonight!

Since my meltdown, I have been taking things pretty slow, sleeping a lot, and saving up my tourist energies for my mom. I feel like Cusco takes a lot of energy, and I have sort of run out of the energy required of me to be a tourist. Here, especially, it is all about gringos, and people always try to get you to buy stuff, or speak English to you. The idea that good customer service means speaking English, even though every time I respond in Spanish, is really frustrating for me. I also hate seeing little kids as vendors. It is super manipulative and exploitative. They have little scripts memorized in English, and when you say no, they ask, "Why not?" and say, "Maybe later?" It makes me crazy.

I have been trying to focus on diabetes, which has proved challenging for me. Today, for instance, I forgot to take my long-acting insulin shot, because I am not in the habit of taking shots at all, and got another near-400 bloodsugar. Wonderful. I was already looking forward to seeing my mom, and now that she has my pump, 7 am could not come fast enough!

Especially since I have been feeling very lonely lately. It sounds stupid to say, but I am trying to be honest...my night with Will was somehow really special to me. I felt like I was part of a couple for several hours, and it showed me how nice it would be to travel with a partner. I really want that. Thank god I will have my mom with me for the next three weeks; it will keep me from doing something hideously desperate!

I resolved last night to fend off loneliness by making friends. I hate making friends on the road, truth be told, because I am really not interested in knowing the majority of people I come across, especially in hostels. It might sounds snobby, but especially when you won't be seeing them again in all likelihood...I just like to hold out for the people that really pique my interest. However, resolved to hold loneliness at bay for one more day, I accepted an invitation from an Austrailian girl to have a beer up in the hostel bar. I was kind of bored by her and her friends' interractions, and used their move to the pool table to join a group of people I thought looked cool. Umm, let me just say I have great instincts, because two of the girls ended up being from Seattle! We drunkenly chatted for awhile, and then I got up to use the restroom, leaving my beer with two guys to my left. When I came back, I realized they didn't understand what I had said, so we started chatting in Spanish, and it turned out they, along with another friend, were Chileans from Santiago! I spent the next hour or two with them. The feeling of meeting people from Chile on the road is amazing...it's like, finally, people I understand and feel connected to! It was awesome to speak Chilean Spanish all night, use the Chilean modismos, hang out with people I genuinely liked. I hope to see them again when I pass through Santiago...one of them owns a restaurant, which can only lead to good things!

So here I am now, on the eve of my mom's arrival. It is going to be an insanely busy three weeks, but having her here with me to share the stress and bring me a piece of home at a time when I am faltering, when I really need someone to build me up....well, the timing couldn't be better.

And now, I must be brave, go get ready, and meet some Peruvians who will hopefully want to dance with me! Wish me luck!

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