All Over and Just Beginning

So this final entry was meant to take place on my last night in Lima, but due to two separate and dysfunctional internet cafe's (perfectly typical), it has had to wait until my arrival. So now I write to you, freshly showered and clean, from my beloved and comfy home in Seattle. And how nice it is.

The last day of my trip I spent in Lima, in the same hotel as my very first night as a matter of fact. I was very much anticipating going home, but was also reflecting on the past four months. How was I different from the Owen that left Seattle 124 days before, if at all? What had I learned? How had I grown? All big questions to answer to myself.

There is one thing I am sure of. Like Socrates said - "One thing only I know, and that is that I know nothing."

All I have seen and learned in a way has expanded my world to an overwhelming size, and shown me how much more there is to experience out there. I feel older, but at the same time younger than ever. Like I'm at the beginning of something, and this trip was only the first few steps in another journey much grander. But all I have is an inkling, a feeling of things to come, not a clue as to what they are, or where they will take me.

So that's the big picture of what's going on in my head, but there are other things this trip has given me besides a sort of dumb-struck awe and confusion. A love and closeness to South America is one. The people, the culture, the history - just the beauty of something different and wonderful. Getting to a new town, chatting with the cab driver en route to the hostal, taking that first walk around the plaza; I grew to love this routine, and how unroutine it was to the life I knew. I learned to never trust directions from a South American, always pack some toilet paper in your back pocket, and that there is nothing tougher than a 70-year old Peruvian woman. I am more independent now, more confident and more thankful. We are all very fortunate to have the things we do, and I've attained a higher awareness and a feeling of responsibility to capitalize on my opportunities.

I don't want to really milk my brain right now, and no doubt I will continue to realize the lessons I've learned as I'm challenged in different ways in the future. But for now I'm happy knowing I had a hell of an experience and I've got three months home with family before I need to worry about anything again.

Please let me know what you've thought of my blog, I enjoy reading your comments as much as you hopefully enjoy mine. And stay tuned - perhaps Europe or Africa next?

Last day, can you find me?

Uyuni and Beyond

In the southwest corner of Bolivia, touching the border of Chile, there lies the world´s largest salt flat, Salar de Uyuni. It covers over 4,000 sq feet of land, and every inch is white crunchy salt. Here we started our three day tour. Well first we stopped at this cool train graveyard, which deserves mention and a picture I guess.

Not choo-chooin anywhere soon

Anyways, THEN we set off in our trusty Toyota Landcruiser 4x4, in a direction I could only assume the driver knew, and soon saw nothing but salt all around us. The nuttiest landscape I´ve ever laid eyes on. The sun shines bright both from above and reflecting off the salt below, so sunglasses are a neccesity. We stopped at a hotel a little ways in made entirely of salt bricks.

Dining room in the salt palace

We drove for another hour or so, and sometimes the driver would just turn around and answer questions with neither his eyes on the road or his hands on the wheel. Disconcerting but harmless. Later we stopped at a weird cactus island in the middle of nothing for lunch and some dopey pictures.

Nick crushing me like a bug

I hereby declare Korea will never run out of salt

All that salt and whiteness can make a man go LOCO

After we were through the flats, we continued onto some caves, which used to be underwater so they had all these cool petrified leaf formations, and then further on to crazier rock formations.

Next to a rock cactus

Riding a rock waveAnd of course the famous rock tree - unreal.

The next couple days were driving around, seeing pastel-brown mountains, glacial blue, green and red lakes with flamingos, feature-less deserts, and freezing our little piggies off at night 15,000 feet high.Me in front of the Mountain of Seven Colors

Pretty bird

The best sunset I´ve ever seen

On the morning of the last day we visited some geysers, but I couldn´t get any good pictures because it was before sunrise. If I could post the stench of sulfur, it´d give you a better idea of what they were like. Then as the sun rose behind the mountains, we stopped at some hot springs for a dip and breakfast. The water was heaven, but only barely worth it when you had to return to the below-freezing air outside. Still a worthy end to an amazing tour. Can you believe those pictures?

Yeaaahhh baby

The crew before goodbyes - clockwise from top left - Sarah from Norway, Nick from Australia, Me, Eoin from Ireland, then Ludda and Johan, brothers from Sweden.

Festival in Macha

A brief warning: I´ve chosen not to show the more graphic pictures, but the material of the next entry might not be suitable for younger viewers and pregnant women. If you are lookin up at this screen, you are too young.

So from Potosí, the location of my last blog, I was planning on heading down to Argentina, but a different opportunity presented itself that I couldn´t pass up. It was a tour to the 500-year old Tinku festival in Macha, a one-horse town a few hours from Potosí. First a few shots of Macha itself.

The whole town was built of earth - this was one of the

more elegant mud-brick houses.

Sugar canes lined up for sale in the center

So we arrived on I forget what day, but in either case nothing happened for a good 48 hours. Our guide was quickly then perpetually drunk, so he was of no use, though later we learned he was showing us tradition through example. The only good quote I remember from him was, "I like the divorce." Half of our group (3 people of 5) got fed up with waiting and got a bus back the morning of the day festivities finally kicked off. Me and another Irish guy (named Owen as well, funny enough, but spelled Eoin) decided we weren´t goin anywhere till we saw what we came for. And boy did we.

Later that day, you could hear dynamite and the faint sound of pipes and singing coming in from the surrounding hills. Communities marched in from miles and miles all around, some traveling for two days by foot, the whole time playing music, dancing, and drinking. The empty little town of Macha was soon full to its limit with colorfully dressed drunk people dancing in cirlces and having a grand old time. That was the fun and tame part of the festival, but not the main reason many were there. That would be the fights.

Marching around the plaza

In front of the church tower, a big group of rowdy men kicked off the melee. This is how it works: there´s a mass of people who want to watch/participate in the fighting and a handful of policemen forming a ring in the center. They keep the crowd back with whips and pepper spray, while picking two equally-matched men from the crowd. These two men step in, or stumble in in many cases, and proceed to beat the living snot out of each other. No weapons, no protection, just a good bucket of some chicha alcohol to numb the pain. Not a lot of skill involved either, but lots of haymakers and a helluva lot of heart. The idea is the more blood spilt, the better the next harvest will be. Let me say I don´t think anyone will be starving with the next harvest.

The beginning of the fights

Your boy lands a good shot

The first day was crazy enough, but when our bus wasn´t full enough to leave that afternoon, we stayed for another day and saw things get really out of hand. It wasn´t just one fight at a time anymore. Three, four, five would break out at the same time and the police had to revert to using tear-gas to break up the crowd. I didn´t bring my camera out for obvious reasons. It started early in the morning, or rather was going all night. Even the women got into it, cat-fighting and pulling each others hair out. These bolivian women are something else. to be honest, it got a little scary, and Eoin and I were glad to get out when we did. I´ve never seen anything like it, just absolute madness. MADNESS I SAY