I was on such a roll with these Peru Diaries posts. But then I got pulled into recruiting stuff at work and spent Labor Day weekend in Michigan so blogging took somewhat of a backseat to Grace Hopper resumes and jet skiing. But I am back! With a vengeance! Onwards!
We arrived in Puerto Maldonado bright and retroactively speaking, too early. The flight was short and was basically an eastern descent from the mountains back down to sea level. Going from high-and-dry Cuzco to low-and-startlingly-humid Puerto Maldonado took some adjustment (and freaked my hair + skin out). I hadn't had such full, big breaths of air in a while. Nor had I seen so many bugs. Or sweated so profusely. Even my Asian genes, to which I usually attribute my relative low propensity to sweat, were helpless against the perspiration situation.
Upon landing, we met our Explorer's Inn driver and hopped into a van. Since we had arrived much earlier than the other folks in our group, we were taken to downtown Puerto Maldonado, where we made a beeline for ice cream (a must in any new town) and strolled around. A couple of observations about DTPM: there's a big ole bridge that's reminiscent of the Golden Gate bridge, you can pose with a large stuffed tiger/leopard for one sole (roughly the equivalent of $0.50), and cab rides are available by motorcycle. Huh.
Maybe Uber should get into the motorcycle taxi market
Afterwards, we headed back to the office of Explorer's Inn, which was about a fifteen minute drive, to wait. The office was part of a small home to a family of three that also housed a plethora of farm animals all hanging out and basking in the sun.
Naturally, I made a beeline for the feline.
We also encountered an avian friend while waiting in the office.
Chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp
This little... thing wandered in, bobbing its head and chirping up a storm for the entire hour or so that we spent in his company. He'd wander off into a corner of the room and the chirps would grow softer and softer, then disappear altogether, and just when I was convinced that he'd either a.) been stepped on or b.) had died of malnutrition after having had all his energy consumed by his soliloquies, I'd hear CHIRPCHIRPCHIRP and see him running out, stumbling about awkwardly and flapping his little winglet nubs and screaming with renewed gusto. It made for surprisingly good entertainment. Then his mother came wandering into the office, searching for her baby....on a computer desk. Despite her clucking and his chirping and them being within a 20-foot vicinity of each other the entire time, neither party seemed to recognize each other. And that is when I concluded that chickens are not very intelligent creatures.
"He's in the computer."
The remainder of our party - a nice British couple on their honeymoon - soon arrived and we set off for the Tampopata River. We were also joined by an old, silent man who rode with us in the van and who would fall asleep in the silliest of positions/settings. We later found out that he was a village shaman. The first time I noticed this phenemonon, we were all in the back of a van traversing a dirt road that resulted in us being jostled violently about - and yet there he lay, unmoving, his wrinkled eyes closed, his expression calm the entire time as we spalunked this way and that throughout the unpaved road. I seriously thought there was no way somebody could sleep through all of that and reached the conclusion that he had died. But I was proven wrong - as soon as our van stopped, he blinked open his eyes, looked around, and got up. Thus, we nicknamed him Jesus.
The boy giving me a grin as we boarded our boat to Explorer's Inn
Jesus falling asleep (again) on the boat
The boat ride lasted for about an hour. At one point, our tour guide Jhin curiously looked over at my camera.
Jhin: "What type of Canon is that?"
Me: "A rebel T3i."
J: "And the lens?"
M: "Just the standard 18-55mm that comes in the kit."
J: "Did you bring any other lenses?"
M: (feeling like a complete noob) "Errr...no..."
J: (reaching into bag) "Here, use this."
He then handed me a beautiful zoom lens that cost more than my entire dSLR. I was floored. Imagine you've never had ice cream in your life before. After months of carefully saving up and doing research, you buy yourself your very first cone and get just the most humble variety - one scoop of vanilla on a small sugar cone. You've taken your first few licks and are still in the process of savoring the rest of it, all the while still having difficulties digesting the fact that you're actually having ice cream!!! - and then some Peruvian man comes out of nowhere, upgrades you to a waffle cone, plops two scoops of Chunky Monkey on top and covers the damn thing with chocolate syrup and fucking rainbow sprinkles. That's how I felt as I nervously attached Jhin's lens to my T3i and peered through my viewfinder, shocked by the whole new world I was seeing through it.
Jhin let me borrow the lens for the entire time I was in the rainforest, which looking back was pretty darn incredible considering how valuable it was and how little we knew each other. It was also very good timing, since most of the photos of wildlife required some epic zooming. Throughout my time in the jungle, I learned a ton from Jhin about my camera's capabilities, strengths and weaknesses. For me, the trip was worth it alone from a dSLR learning and practicing perspective.
But the nature was pretty darn nifty too. Part of Explorer's Inn agreement with the wildlife/conservation program of the Peruvian government mandated that they wouldn't do anything that would have adverse effects on the environment. As a result, everything was in its simplest, most rudimentary form. The food we ate was grown nearby. The chairs were made of wood from fallen trees. There was no electricity in our huts and we showered in natural spring water in the dark. Critters of all kinds hung out nearby - and we understood that we were not to feed nor disturb them or really interact with them in any way other than observe them from a safe distance. (At one point, we had a close encounter with a bullet ant - a fellow whose bite causes 24 hours of pain akin to that caused by a bullet wound, hence its nomenclature. Jhin did not kill it. Instead, he gently lifted it with an oar and moved it out of our canoe so that it could scamper off, leaving the rest of us were mildly horrified that such creatures were abound.) Spending time in the jungle was definitely a huge lifestyle pivot from the one that I'm normally used to, one that was refreshingly simple and made me so much more aware and respectful of my surroundings.
We spent most of our time in the jungle embarking on nature walks or boat trips. My favorite was seeing the giant river otters; we trekked 5k to the part of the river where they are seen only about 5% of the time, got incredibly lucky on our boat ride, and managed to see a family of eight giant river otters for a few precious moments. We also saw caimans, macaws, and all sorts of creepy crawlies.
Which brings me to the bug situation. There. Were. A. Lot. Of Them. We had to be especially wary of mosquitos in the area, since it was a higher-risk area for yellow fever and malaria. Most bug sprays contain 7-12% deet (the poison that kills the bugs). The spray that we were recommended contained 100% deet. In fact, it just was deet. Pure poison sprayed directly to the backs of our hands and then carefully dabbed onto our faces, necks, and any other exposed skin. Boy that stuff was potent and probably took some months off my lifespan, but it worked well. When a bug landed, it died immediately upon contact. I felt like the human version of an electric bug zapper.
Jhin let me borrow the lens for the entire time I was in the rainforest, which looking back was pretty darn incredible considering how valuable it was and how little we knew each other. It was also very good timing, since most of the photos of wildlife required some epic zooming. Throughout my time in the jungle, I learned a ton from Jhin about my camera's capabilities, strengths and weaknesses. For me, the trip was worth it alone from a dSLR learning and practicing perspective.
But the nature was pretty darn nifty too. Part of Explorer's Inn agreement with the wildlife/conservation program of the Peruvian government mandated that they wouldn't do anything that would have adverse effects on the environment. As a result, everything was in its simplest, most rudimentary form. The food we ate was grown nearby. The chairs were made of wood from fallen trees. There was no electricity in our huts and we showered in natural spring water in the dark. Critters of all kinds hung out nearby - and we understood that we were not to feed nor disturb them or really interact with them in any way other than observe them from a safe distance. (At one point, we had a close encounter with a bullet ant - a fellow whose bite causes 24 hours of pain akin to that caused by a bullet wound, hence its nomenclature. Jhin did not kill it. Instead, he gently lifted it with an oar and moved it out of our canoe so that it could scamper off, leaving the rest of us were mildly horrified that such creatures were abound.) Spending time in the jungle was definitely a huge lifestyle pivot from the one that I'm normally used to, one that was refreshingly simple and made me so much more aware and respectful of my surroundings.
We spent most of our time in the jungle embarking on nature walks or boat trips. My favorite was seeing the giant river otters; we trekked 5k to the part of the river where they are seen only about 5% of the time, got incredibly lucky on our boat ride, and managed to see a family of eight giant river otters for a few precious moments. We also saw caimans, macaws, and all sorts of creepy crawlies.
Which brings me to the bug situation. There. Were. A. Lot. Of Them. We had to be especially wary of mosquitos in the area, since it was a higher-risk area for yellow fever and malaria. Most bug sprays contain 7-12% deet (the poison that kills the bugs). The spray that we were recommended contained 100% deet. In fact, it just was deet. Pure poison sprayed directly to the backs of our hands and then carefully dabbed onto our faces, necks, and any other exposed skin. Boy that stuff was potent and probably took some months off my lifespan, but it worked well. When a bug landed, it died immediately upon contact. I felt like the human version of an electric bug zapper.
Sexy bucket hat gets replaced by sexy life vest
Our lodging. Super cool and rustic.
A map of campus. Explorer's Inn also had researchers and students on site.
Rafiki
Who's a pretty princess?
A tarantula hanging out on one of the outside walls of the cabins. They allegedly often make their way inside too. Thankfully, we were not graced with any tarantulan visitors in our room.
Not pictured: back sweat. GALLONS UPON GALLONS
Unfortunately, we didn't see anything super rare or crazy on our hikes like a big cat or a sloth, but I enjoyed myself and learned a ton nevertheless. My stay definitely made me so much more appreciative of my surroundings and the natural beauty (and bizarre-ness!) in the Amazon.
...and it also loosened my toenail. (Wow whatta transition!) Yeeeeep. On the Salkantay trail, my big toes had taken quite the beating from being repeatedly jammed against the front of my hiking boots on the downhill descents. In particular, the bedding around the base of my left foot's big toenail had grown very swollen and tender and I was very suspicious that the whole damn thing was on the verge of falling off, so one night in the jungle I took a closer look by headlamp/candlelight. Note: if you are squeamish about feet or injuries, you might want to skip this next part.
I started by gently prodding the bedding, and then pressing with increasing firmness on the toenail (which had started separating at the tip from my skin beneath). To my utter surprise, a clear liquid came gushing out from my toenail. It was tinged with blood and didn't hurt as bad as it looked but I freaked out anyway and "OMG FUCK!"ed and the boy came over to see what was wrong. Fun fact about the boy: he hates feet. Despises them. All of them, even his own. It was a testament to our relationship that he calmly went to get the first aid kit, propped my foot up, applied anti-bacterial cream to my toe, and bandaged it. And he repeated the whole thing the next morning before our next hike! What a champ.
To normal people, this is just feet. To the boy, this is A MANIFESTATION OF HORROR AND DEATH
All of my piggies are back to normal now. The big toe has since stopped being so precarious and seems to have settled back down into its bedding. Aaaaaannnd I think that's enough toe talk for one entry.
We stayed at Explorer's Inn for three days and two nights. While the rainforest was an amazing experience, I was definitely ready for (and probably in desperate need of) a long, hot bath and some air conditioning. We flew out of Puerto Maldonado and landed in Lima around 4 in the afternoon for our last night in Peru. Our airbnb this time was in the Barranco district of the city, a quiet and artsy part of town. The highlight of our evening was definitely the ceviche, which had been raved about so often and vehemently thus far that we couldn't not have it at dinner.
It was incredible. Fresh, savory, a zillion flavors bursting through the smooth fishy goodness. I can feel my mouth salivating right now as I type this. Guhguhguhguhguh.
The best thing I ever ate
We spent the next morning taking a stroll around the neighborhood, admiring the beautiful architecture and modern art galleries along the coast of the ocean. After spending so many hours in the remote Andean mountainside and then three sweltering days in the Amazonian jungle, it felt strange to be admiring modern glass houses and pristinely groomed gardens. In fact, Barranca felt a bit like what I imagine the nicer coastal neighborhoods of LA would've been like. I wish we'd had more time to explore, but alas, we had a flight back home to catch and a whole lot of responsibilities to come back to, the most urgent of which was to consume a Chipotle burrito pronto.
And thus, I conclude the Peru Diaries. If you are interested or curious about visiting Peru, I highly recommend it. The people are kind, the culture is rich, the sights are breathtaking, and the ceviche in Lima will leave you wondering "what dark magic spawned this devilishly delicious delicacy?" The only thing I wish I would've done differently is taken a bigger bag so I could've brought more alpaca sweaters back with me. And Houdini the kitten. And the annoyingly cute alpaca. And Pepe. And that ceviche. And Machu Picchu. And Jhin's lens. And a giant river otter.
...you get the point. Stay classy, Peru! I sincerely hope our paths will soon cross again.
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