The Next Phase...

Goodbyes in Ayacucho were sad, but sadder for me than for the kids who are used to seeing volunteers come and go. Lima is a far cry from Ayacucho. In Barranco, people walk their Huskies, Terriers, and Bijons down to the beach. It's a sharp contrast from the menacing dogs barking and charging at me until I raise my fist clenching a rock above my head. It's hard to believe I may miss that, but I'm sure at times I will, because it is a reality.

It will be like how I feel the loss of Africa. The unpredictability of life. The skinny children following me around. The way its dirty. The way it rains so hard you wonder what would happen if it never stopped. How quickly you'd be swallowed up by the water. It's not that I really want these things, it's just that I think of them, I don't want to forget them.

In Ayacucho, I will miss the piles of rubble they call streets. I'll miss the old women, in their flat brimmed hats and alpaca sweaters, carrying vegetables or babies on their shoulders . I'll miss the view from the rooftop, washing my clothes at the crack of dawn. I won't miss his honks but I'll think of that boy that walks around 6am selling bread, instead of watching cartoons on tv.

I'm moving on to another thing now, another phase of work and travel and I just want to thank Ayacucho and the Casa Hogar Los Gorriones. I'm realizing that I have pieces of my heart all over the world and it's not easy saying goodbye to beautiful people or carrying the burden of harsh realities, but I promise not to forget and to share what I'm learning.

Now, allow me to share my adventures of Machu Picchu.

The bus ride from Cusco was uneventful. We made lots of stops including Ollantaytambo where I caught a glimpse of the ruins from the windows of the bus. The bus makes daring turns up and down through the mountains but I have started to get used to it. The ride from Ayacucho to Andahuaylas, sitting in the top front window seat my stomach turned upside down every time we turned a switchback. It reminded me of that horrendous first bush taxi ride to Gueckedou sharing the front seat with Phil. There's this feeling like you're going to die if your driver, ¨Jeff Gordon¨ Diallo makes a mistake and hits an enormous pothole too fast. That feeling went away after a while and I stopped picturing my head flying through the windshield, my body sprawled on the dirt days away from Doctor Traian, expert of all inflictions Guinean.

Anyway, so it's a similar feeling of staring death in the face except instead of potholes your picturing your bus dropping a thousand feet off a cliff smashing into the rocks and the Urubamba river below. The scenery, needless to say, is magnificent.

Arriving in one piece to Santa Maria, and being solo, I was able to hop quickly into a taxi headed for Santa Teresa. Here I met my first group of Argentinian students traveling in Peru for their summer vacation. Juan, Mauricio and Mattias took me in and assured me we'd have no trouble hiking the three hours along the train tracks to arrive in Aguas Calientes that day. The hour ride was both stunning and horrifying, a theme I'm at this point familiar with on trips through the Andes.

We walked three hours from Hydroelectrica, a light drizzle coming and going, keeping a good pace to arrive before nightfall. The walk is crowded with young tourists avoiding the high costs of the direct train from Cusco. Arriving in Aguas Calientes after traveling all day, I found my hostel, grabbed a menu del dia, set my alarm for 3:30 and fell asleep.

Popping awake with my alarm, I discovered two of my roommates had the same idea of hiking up the steep trail to Machu Picchu in order to get a ticket for Wayna Picchu. Every day thousands of people visit Machu Picchu. The first 400 people in line when they open the gate at 6am receive passes to climb Wayna Picchu, another hidden city an hours hike up from the Old Peak.

I struggled up steep, rocky steps in the rainy, dark woods with people in front and behind, breathing heavy and swearing in multiple languages. Over an hour after I left, I arrived at the lodge. It was 5:15am and there were hundreds of people ahead of me. Unsure of my number, I layered back up and waited for them to start letting people in. By a stroke of luck I was number 333 and would be allowed to hike Wayna Picchu. I only had between 7 and 8 am to start the climb.

It is in this state, happy with my success, but damp and tired from a steep climb that I caught my first glimpses of these awesome ancient ruins of the Quechua people. An advantage of being here early is you're sites are less obscured by colorful ponchos. It's vast and quiet. The clouds were moving in and out of the surrounding peaks, opening up to stunning views. Surrounded by old Inca walls forming, temples, houses, fountains and parks I made my way towards the gate to Wayna Picchu. The 40 minute climb up to Wayna Picchu was worth every difficult step. Here, there really were only a few of us, and we romped around our own personal playground, 8,900 feet high and 600 years old.

I climbed down to catch Fabricio's 10:30 tour. At this point, my legs were exhausted and would be sore coming down steps for days. Walking around the ruins I listened to stories unfolding Inca culture and religion. Standing inside the Temple of the Condor we learned about the sacrifices made to the condors whom the Quechua people believed carried the dead back to earth to be reborn.

Exhausted I took the bus down and grabbed a bite with Fabricio at the central market. Walking towards my hostel I caught up with the Australians staying in my room and we spent the afternoon swapping travel stories and playing chess at the bar.

The next morning, I hiked the 3 hours out to Hydroelectrica and caught bus after bus back to Cusco. Thirteen hours and two road blocks later, I arrived exhausted, wet, and disgusting to my hostel, appropriately called Home Sweet Home. Pounding on the door in the rain Adolpho, awoken out of bed came down to let me in, ¨ah, Señorita Emily, como estas?¨ Glad to be near a hot shower, but too exhausted to take one, I flopped onto my bed and sank into slumber.

It's been a great vacation. I hope the sun is shining on the Inca Trail for Kevin who's out there hiking. It's been raining all day in Cusco. It will be a nice feeling to drop this plastic poncho in the garbage. Tonight I leave for Lima and Tuesday I start my new job. Wish me luck!

Thanks for reading. Cuidate!