Journey Man

Tonight will be brief as I have already typed this once on my tablet and lost it all.  Now I am in the lounge using the computer.  The other reason for brevity is that not much exciting happened today.

My plan for the afternoon was to locate the intersection where I would catch my collectivo (shared van ride) to Ollantaytambo in the morning.  As I headed that direction I noticed something familiar to me that has always intrigued me over the years .  If you have ever visited places like New Orleans, Savannah, or Charleston and have seen those doors that lead to what appear to be courtyards or interior living spaces, then you know what I am referring to when I say I have seen the same here.  When I see a door slightly ajar and revealing a glimpse into an inner world that I know nothing about my mind begins to wonder.  I believe there is magic behind those doors. So much life.  I walk along the street and all I see are shops and doors and stucco and the fact that perhaps ten feet behind these doors lies a world where I would be a complete stranger creates wonder in my mind.  I see behind the doors in Cusco what appears to be ancient living spaces.  Arches supported by pillars.  People dining.  Children playing and learning.  The schools are housed behind these doors.   Enough contemplation.  I walk on.

Leaving the historic district behind, I begin my descent, both literally and figuratively, into chaos.  This day continues my love and hate relationship with Cusco.  My high from this morning gives way to noise, crowded streets, and utter chaos.  Shops, street vendors, and people are everywhere.  I don’t know what people do for a living here other than sell things and walk around.  I walk the streets with purpose and confidence, weaving my way through traffic, people, and vendors.  Perhaps the reason for the complete lack of kindness and hospitality from the people in this city is because they know for me, this is just a pass-through city.  Perhaps they do value and treasure their culture and are offended by the gringo that walks through on his way to Machu Picchu.

Once I got the lay of land, so to speak, regarding tomorrows exodus, I made my way back through the chaos to the historic district and the Plaza shopping area.  The shopping area is a large complex under a metal roof, housing vendors selling everything from meat, to cheeses and butter, to vegetables and fruit, electronics, and clothing.  People crammed into spaces perhaps four feet by four feet surrounded by their wares.  I find some things I want, negotiating with the help of Google Translate, and find myself once again debating mathematics with an elderly lady, who again, prevailed and astounded me with her skills.

I had a quick lunch and made my way back to the hostel for more sunscreen and a rest in the hammock, which ultimately turned into a nap.  Waking to thunder and ice cold raindrops, I retired to my quarters to seek out a ceviche restaurant.  Acquiring that information, I headed back into town.

I was seated at a window overlooking the square that elicited so much emotion just over twelve hours earlier.  I enjoyed my ceviche while taking in the beginning of sunset over the square.  Finishing dinner, I found a spot in the square to take in a marginal sunset alongside so many others hoping for a glorious sendoff.

Satisfied with my unsatisfaction, I walked back to my place to hang, chill, catch up with my book, and write this entry.

Adventure awaits tomorrow and I am ready.

Post Script

I have been wondering about the dogs that I see sleeping on the street all day long only to hear them barking incessantly through the night.  I have wondered as I saw these dogs, do they have owners? Does somebody feed these animals?  I have come to multiple conclusions.  One, they sleep all day and then at night time they attack each other until they find a weak one and they feed off of the carcass of the loser of the death match.  Two, I don’t see any rodents because they are on the hunt. Ever vigilant to rid the city of vermin.  Perhaps there are animals that I’m on unaware of that they hunt in the night.  Third, and more likely, perhaps they are vampire dogs who sleep all day only to feed on the blood of innocent victims who stay out too late at night. Just a thought and an observation.