Titi Khar'ka

A three hour boat trip took us across Lake Titicaca to the north end of Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun).  The lake is massive and appears to be an ocean.  With a depth of 457 meters, it's the largest lake in South America.

A guide led us around the Inca ruins and explained the history.  One area had a small pool of water which had been filtered through the rocks.  It produced a very sweet natural water source.  Our guide grabbed a plastic cup he had hidden behind a bush, filled it with the water and passed it around, so we could take a sip.  Then, he replaced the cup for the next group.  We pretended this wasn't disgusting and continued the ritual by splashing some water on our heads.

We stayed at a hostel in the center of the island, near Playa Cha'lla, a sandy beach.  The Aymara village here is very small and traditional.  Pigs, donkeys, and sheep wander along the shoreline.  The only sounds are children laughing, donkeys braying, and the distant music of pan pipes.  We walked along the trail to marvel the clear blue lake, surrounded by the snowy Cordillera Real mountains.  Despite the cool air, the sun is incredibly intense.  This is the birth place of the Sun God after all. 

Our Bus is on a Boat

After a full day of travel, Beverly and I arrived in the South American country of Bolivia.  It was not surprising that the customs official did not ask for our visa application, yellow fever vaccination, photo, or hotel reservation.  He wanted cash.  He was particular about it too.  I handed over a wad of wrinkled bills with miniscule rips.  This was unacceptable.  He wanted crisp, new bills, still warm from printing.

We hopped on a bus bound for Copacabana, a four hour drive from La Paz.  The drive took us down a winding road through rugged mountains surrounding Lake Titicaca.  Small fields built on meandering terraces dotted the steep hills.  Here, farmers grow potatoes, quinoa, and corn.   

We stopped in a small town near the lake for a bathroom break.  When Bev and I returned, we saw our bus floating across the lake on a large pontoon boat.  We were only a little concerned because this is, after all, Bolivia.  When travelling in other countries, there are going to be times when things are confusing.  We decided to ask someone about this.
"Our bus is on a boat.  What should we do?" asked Bev.
I stood beside her, laughing at the absurdity of the question.  The lady sold us boat tickets which take people across to meet the bus on the other side. 
Of course.

Copacabana is a quiet, peaceful town where tradition rules.  The women wear bowler hats, layers of sweaters, a shawl, long pleated skirts with multiple petticoats, and tiny black slippers.  Slung over their backs, is a large colorful blanket with which they carry heavy items or children.  Their long, black hair is parted down the middle with two braids, tied together in the back with a piece of dark, fluffy string. 

The town caters to the tourists which flock there, and they sell everything one needs, particularly warm clothes.  The elevation is 3,800 meters, and while the winter days are warm, the nights are chilly. 

Dogs are everywhere in Bolivia.  They hang out on door steps, roam around in packs, and are truly loved by the people.  Although they are considered outdoor pets, they often wear sweaters and have beds made of cardboard or blankets. 

In the center of town, the white cathedral shines brilliantly against the blue sky.  On Sunday, we witnessed the Benedicion de Movilidades (vehicle blessings).  People lined their cars and trucks in front the church, adorned them with garland and flowers, and awaited the ritual blessing.  For a donation, the priest will bless the vehicle for its upcoming journey. 

Puerto Morales

We chose to end the trip at a smaller and less touristy fishing village in the attempt to find more authenticity and cheaper prices.  Unfortunately, the prices were the same as in Playa del Carmen.  The world is getting smaller, and the locals know what Americans will pay.  When the entire village conspires together, we had no choice but to pay up. 

We stayed at Posada Amor, the cheapest hotel in town.  Radek informed me that "There are ants everywhere."
"Where?" I asked.
"There are two.  One in the sink, and one on the wall."
I looked around for the ant infestation, but didn't see any.
"They must have left."

We did find some free activities such as strolling the beach and enjoying the sand art. 

We spent several lazy days stretched out on the sand underneath this palm tree, watching the birds hover over the Mexican families who were laughing, playing, and eating.  Constantly eating.  We bought a deep-fried soy football shaped concoction topped with onions and hot sauce from a passing vendor, and we both found them really tasty.  Our stomachs; however, did not like them. 

Chichén Itzá

Radek has been complaining that I haven't updated my blog in what I agree is an unacceptably long time.  I'm sure I would work more quickly if he paid me to write like everyone else.  Just throwing that out there.  ;)

Chichén Itzá was the cultural and historical high point of our Eastern Yucatan adventure.  It is, by far, the most iconic and best preserved Mayan site, and after seeing the image of El Castillo's staircase on so many postcards, t-shirts, and coffee mugs, we were finally standing before it.  It was an amazing sight and lived up to it's fame.  The temple, like most other Mayan structures, is aligned with the summer and winter equinoxes.   On these days, a the sun will create a shadow image of a snake which appears on the staircase. 

Proud of their numerous defeats over the enemy, the Mayans carved skulls into a rather long wall.  I'm thinking about making a similar wall for myself, only this one will include all the insects I've murdered.

Although there are several cenotes in the area.  The largest,Cenote Sagrado, was the people's main well. 

The Mayans may have disappeared, but the iguanas are thriving!

The observatory is called El Caracol.  You can really picture all the ancient nerds determining which day to hold the corn planting ritual.

Tulum

One of the first things visitors at the Tulum archeological site notice is the abundance of iguanas.  With the ancient Mayans gone, they have overtaken the area and are now the only permanent residents.  I'm not sure what was going on here.  The large iguana was biting the neck of the smaller one while another iguana became really violent and bit the large one repeatedly.

Although Tulum is similar to the other Mayan ruins in Mexico, it's location atop a cliff, overlooking the Caribbean Sea, makes it strikingly beautiful.

The Mayans lived here between 2000 and 1500 A.D.  The main building is Pyramid El Castillo which is perched on the highest point.  It functioned as a religious and astrological center.  The Great Palace, featured here, has been well restored, even with the thatch rooftop in place. 

We asked a guy to take our picture.  He took a couple, and then Radek told him to take one more where he kissed me.    "I don't know this man," I said.

They laughed and asked where we were from.  I said the U.S. and

Radek said Germany.  The guy looked surprised and asked, "Oh, you two really don't know each other?"

The Temple of the Frescoes had various pictures of people and animals on it.  While we were observing it, I said, "Hey, look at the snake."  
Radek peered at the stone wall and said, "I don't see it."
"No, it's an actual snake."

The vendors in Tulum were really aggressive.  They shout out, "Hello, my friend.  Something for you?"  Then, they held out random trinkets such as an obsidian sculpture of a jaguar or a gaudy luchador mask.  One day, we were walking toward a row of small tiendas, and a shopkeeper saw a very large and very white man heading towards him.  Still some distance away, he grabbed a large straw hat and held it in the air.  We all laughed because it was so perfect.

This was a cultural experience on multiple levels.  Not only did I enjoy the food, music, and traditions of Mexico, but I learned about a German's point of view as well.  I am certain I annoyed Radek with my constant questions, but I can't help it.  I'm American.  After sampling nachos, a taco, burrito, and guacamole, Radek said, "It's all the same ingredients, just a different presentation." 

One night, I suggested eating a crepe or churro before tacos.  Always the practical German, Radek scolded me and explained that we should not eat dessert first.  I told him they were appetizers. 
"Didn't your mother ever tell you to finish your dinner before having sweets?"
"My mother told me lots of things I ignore."

Pole Flyers are a popular attraction in many cities.  They climb the ladder to the top of the pole, play music with drums and pan pipes, then descend by wrapping a rope around their leg and spinning their way down to the ground. 

Playa del Carmen

Warm sun.  Blue sky.  Tropical breeze.  All this made the red-eye flight to Cancun on Spirit Airlines (which does not have reclining seats or free water) worth it.  We hopped on a bus to Playa del Carmen.  There was a girl in the seats next to us, and it took only a few minutes for a male traveler to descend upon her, vulture-like.  He plopped down uninvited and began an exhausting monologue about himself, his extensive travels, and his greatness.
"What?  You're only here for one week!" he exclaimed.  "Oh, you have to stay longer in order to really DO Mexico." 
He stated this in that particularly annoying way people have when their main purpose for travelling is to gather a list exotic locals with which to impress friends and random girls on buses. 
"You HAVE to do Akumal!" he gushed.  "It's like a European beach with couches on the sand."
Radek turned around, and asked briskly, "Which beach in Europe?"
"Uuhhhh..."  Stammer.  "That's a good question."  He tried to laugh it off, but the damage was done.
"It must be some other Europe," Radek concluded.
Mr. Know-It-All quickly went back to his seat, and all three of us burst out laughing.
Radek declared, "I just destroyed a half hour of bull shit with one sentence."

When we arrived at our hotel in Playa del Carmen, the woman at the front desk was completely confused by our arrival.  I had made a reservation weeks prior, but this was brand new information for her.  I love Mexico. 
Radek asked, "Does the room have A.C.?"
"I don't know.  Umm...it has a fan."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
After unpacking some stuff, we looked around the room.  There was a weird painting with a naked woman with wild black hair.  A large snake was slithering around her body, and she was holding a cat.  The wardrobe had exactly one hanger, and one of the lights and a fan didn't work. 
"Don't put toilet paper in the toilet," I warned.
"Is that entirely necessary?"
"Only if you don't want to clog the toilet."
"That is really unsanitary."
"Is this the shittiest hotel you've ever stayed in?"
"Yes."

Radek finds it strange that Americans constantly engage in small talk with strangers.  We say "Hello" and ask "How are you" to people as we pass by.
"Don't Germans make small talk?"
"With friends or family, but only for a short time."
"Then what do you talk about?"
"Work."
"You don't do small talk with strangers?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because if you ask someone how they are doing, then they might actually answer you."
Radek tells me that I make "big talk" because I make small talk for a long time.  But, I'm just being polite.
                    
Radek has learned that I'm a thief.  I steal things all the time.  Napkins.  Food.  Utensils.  Spices.  Bags.  I pilfer things when nobody is looking.  Later, when I produce a stolen item, such as a knife for peeling a mango, he wonders where I got it.  One night, after slyly grabbing a handful of limes from a food cart, he declared, "I'm glad you're on my side."

We found the local market and stocked up on avocadoes, nuts, mangoes, and some other snacks.  The selection of chili peppers was like a fiery rainbow. 

During the first week, we spent the days at the beach, alternating between relaxing under an umbrella and swimming in the ocean.  I read books, and Radek played Sudoku.  At the end of the day, the fishermen would return, and the men began the long process of brining the boat ashore.  They placed long cylinders under the boat to slide it easier, but it still took a great deal of sheer manpower to pull it.  One day, the waves had moved the sand in such a way that it created a small hill, making it especially difficult.  The men kept counting, "Uno, dos tres," and pulled with all their strength.  The boat refused to budge.  It was both funny and pitiful.  Finally, Radek got involved in the tug-of-war.  Boat=0.  Giant German=1. 

Living the Dream

No visit to America is complete without a trip to Walmart.  Around the world people not only know of this store, but more importantly they know about its customers.  As we were leaving Radek asked, "Is it perfectly safe for me to take my entire wallet?  I don't need to hide it?" 

On the way, we stopped at the library, so I could drop off a highly intellectual book about critical thinking.  I returned to find Radek giggling and pointing.  "What?" I asked.  When he pointed, I suddenly saw the world through his eyes.  I had just walked past this truck twice without giving it a second thought, but upon reflection, it was pretty funny.  I mumbled something about the creativity of rednecks. 

I could see the slight disappointment on his face when we entered.  He said, "They are just regular Americans."   As the expert on American culture, I am able to answer his many questions. 
"Do people really wear pajamas in public?"  "Do black people really like chicken?" 
It didn't take long until we saw a woman wearing a shower cap.  I explained that she had curlers in her hair and was covering them.  "Why doesn't she just do that at home?"  Well, after all, it's just Walmart.

His favorite part of the visit was watching a woman try to wedge herself into a motorized cart.
Radek asked, "And the pole is to let others know she is coming?" 
"No.  The pole is to prevent her from leaving the store with it.  The pole is taller than the door." 
This caused such an outburst of laughter on his part that I knew our visit was finally a success. 

We went to Papago Park to hike for a few hours.  Radek commented, "This is what I imagined of the southwest."  After he took about 50 photographs of rather mediocre cacti, I informed him that we would see many more much substantial specimens. 

He was surprised at the size of Phoenix and that there were mountains - in the middle of the city.  We watched planes continually fly into Sky Harbor.  He laughed at all the air traffic and said, "Look.  Two fly in at the same time." and shook his head.

I played tour guide and provided Radek with way more information that he wanted about the landscape, plants, and history.  He mostly just wanted to take pictures of the "plant with needles that has arms."  We learn a lot from each other.  I taught him the words, "saguaro and palo verde."  He taught me the term, "handyman cleavage."  I taught him the verb form of the word "hump."  It was highly intellectual.

In preparation for our culinary adventure in Mexico, we made tacos.  Tahoe has bonded well with his fellow carnivore, particularly one who shares his food.  Even Greta started begging when she saw the turkey.  While eating the messy tacos, Radek picked it up, chowed down, and licked his fingers.  Then, he announced solemnly, "I have lost my dignity." 

The following day, we drove up South Mountain to the summit where I intended to show Radek a lovely view of the Phoenix Metropolitan area.  Naturally, this was one of the few days it rained, and the view was rather disappointing.  However, Radek had the rare opportunity to experience the enchanting smell of creosote during rain in the desert. 

Afterwards, we went to Subway for lunch.  In his quest to try all things American, he tried Root Beer for the first time. 
"Why is it called beer?  It's not anything like beer," he asked.
"I don't know.  It has nothing to do with beer.  What do you think?"
"I think it is something you could get used to..." he said contemplatively.
(Hysterical laughter from me.)
"Oh shit.  This is going on your blog."