The Beat Goes On (The Beatings Will Continue Until Moral Improves)

Hello, Buenos Tardes, y Salud. Bienvenidos al segundo entrada de mi blog.
See Spanish ain´t that hard.

Hmm, again the strangness of recounting the events of the last 18 days or so to a blank screen with a great selection of North American 80`s music in the background. (Just the first several seconds of each song per the selection of the attention deficient, Kola driven jovenas (young girls) across the room.)

First, Thank you for reading the last blog entry and sharing your comments. I had a great time writing it and I feel now confident about writting in general. This is a semi new feeling for me. It is also one that is helping fuel a project of old inspiration and recent application. I am writting a book (actually a series) called "The Cat in the Bag". I hope to done with the first book (at least a draft) by the end of this journey. More on this later.

I am circling the bowl right now because the first chunk of these last days and this entry is trouble in shangrila. As is my style, I am gonna be rather open about it all, figuring your gonna hear about it from me soon anyway.

Here goes,

You all know how much I love Saint Valentines Day, that is why I decided to kick it off with some major (i think) dental work. I had 14 cavities filled and one tooth removed. The cavities were actually the replacement of all the fillings I got over the last 10 years which were defecting left and right. Regardless, half my mouth was excavated with no anesthetic (my choice, actually quite alright). They did numb me up for the molar removal. That in itself was a good thing cuz it cost me around $385 USD. for the highest quality white material from Germany. It would have been like 2-3K in Los Estados Bandidos. I should mention the day before I went to the gym to lift weights with a couple Peruanos. That was great, but it was the first time I had been to a gym in about 9 years. Thusly, it felt like I opened every muscle and poured into each fiber the pain and shock of the dental work. To top it off, the idiot in me decided to go out that night and the triad opened me wide for the surrounding sickness to take residence all up in me. I was sick for about a week and a half. I could wax about that time but I´ll spare you all but a brief description. Diariah, the Siberian twins SI and URI (Sinus Infection and Upper Resperatory Inf.) and then son of Diariah. Lame. I do feel like the exhaust of the cars in Cuzco contributed greatly, that and the altitude. I actually am still dragging it out 3 weeks later.

So, that sucked, But! Check this out! Here comes the really bad part.

Some of you are aware of my investment into somthing called IFFL about 2 years ago. On the first day I felt majorly better I went out and consulted the list serve that services the "Preffered Buyer`s" AKA the investors to IFFL. Very , Very, Very Bad news. Long story short, it looks at the present moment to be a Ponzi scheme. It does remain a posibility that in the next few weeks checks will be written and it will all have been just an unfortunate but honest investment. I don´t believe this will be the case. I have of late invested probably about 19 hours reading over legal docs., reading and contributing to the Yahoo Canada group discussion that has formed, writting letters to involved parties and otherwise figuring out where to take this next. There is already a class action Law suit in progress, of which I am automatically entered into. I don´t however trust that particular law firm yet though as they have previously existing ties to all the major players at the top: Milo Brost, Gary Sorenson and Martin Werner. This is the beggining of a legal fight which I can only hope turns out for the best. I am into this for $125 K. An amount that was leveraged against my second house, which is now on thin ice, mortgage-ly speaking. If you have spent more than 3 days with me you probably know my intentions for that money as well as how different they are from the bastards that perpetated this shit. I am angry about this. I am a lot of things about this including upset, furious, articulate, ashamed and scared. I am also some good things though, which are important to convey.

If only for the purposes of my own self-esteem I have a strengthened faith in my ability to move way beyond this. In survival terms I am fine. I have hella more assets, not the least of which are my community and my mind. I also still have the one house and help from family as far as my financial intentions go. I am in no way down. I am bruised though and ...

even writting this now I feel this mixture of hate fueled articulation, like you guys are the ones I should get mad at, and a quivering of destabalizing emotions. This is some pretty big shit to me.

I had a night to my self in the midst of all this and I went up to the roof of my hostal in Cuzco. I was really high up there, so I had a great view of the bricks, clothes lines, city lights and La Cruz Blanca up in the hills outside the city. I did feel very strongly, gratitude. Just for being able to live this experience. I can`t describe this poetically. But it was a connection to a peace within this. I am very grateful for that.

There are two things I ask of everybody reading this. 1.) Please don`t tell me how sorry you are for me, if you are. This sucks, I´ll figure it out. 2.) Please don`t tell me "I told you so", cuz some of you did. Thank you very much. If you now anyone who is invsted in IFFL, BRA, etc. (They will know) and they don´t know what is up, please check in with them. Right now only a small portion of those invested are communicating openly about this. And right now I think we are all we have. We need to organize legaly and independently from the other parties which may be working for our best interests. Thank you.

So, I am still in Peru though. I am still on vacation. I am still doing some really fun stuff.

It was and is Carnival all over the place down here. Definately a different scene than in Brazil or New Orleans. What happens here is primarily the singling out of single girls to be bombarded with water ballons and this spray foam stuff that is sold everywhere. I partook of the festivities in my own, sensitive western progressive male way (NOT a S.N.A.G.). I journeyed to the Plaza de Armas with a bag of water balloons and launched one-man-ambushes against those groups of boys targeting the girls. It made for extreme war play. It was really fun. Especially after I wised up and got a couple cans of foam myself. I´d waltz into the mallay and then flip them out of my back pockets and kill, like that scene in the bank in the First Matrix (kinda) . I definately took some hits and I am glad the foam stuff didn`t burn my contact lense covered eyes. After a bit we all truced and that was that. It was raining like THE DICKENS so festivities accomidated. Amongst those festivities was music, of course, and a public showing of homophobia. It consisted of a few guys. The main two where a guy in a dress and the guy who beats him. It was a funny thing to the local people watching it. That and the whole gang-up-on-girls thing, (members of the crowd were telling me, "no, shoot at the girls!") put a strange twist on the events of the day. I can`t say I interviened in the homophobia sketch crews activities. That would have been quite bold, culturally invasive and perhaps pointless and leading to a beating. I am sorry to my gay friends.

I had one good night at "Mythology", the at that point, only open discotech for anything other than strictly latin grooves. I shook it hard as I could with the somewhat capable DJ. Not to be a snob but fuckin-A, I go to Burning Man, I go to dance church and I`m a friend of DJ Teaser Pony! (DTA). Anyway, I could and did dance for a good 3 hours into the night. I consentually followed these two girls from London to there hostal but that was the end of it. They even stood me up the following evening at the fountain in the Plaza de Armas! But, it was all for the better cuz I went from there to one of my favorite restaurants and met a very nice young lady from Austria named Anna. We kicked it a couple of days which included a joint venture out of the city.

I went to Salinas which is a salt mining operation in the mountains outside Cuzco. It has been around since Incan times and contains 60,000 evaporation pools running (in the dry months) in 3 day cycles. The salty salty water just comes right out of the mountain and is diverted to all the pools through channels a few inches wide. The salt itself fortifies the dirt banks of the small channels and makes them into very hard and at times tall, rivlets (small rivers?). The salt water evaporates from the pools and is gathered and carried down the mountian on the backs of donkeys and people. A 50 kilo bag is then sold for 9 soles, pinche $3. Wow. I met up later with Anna an her stange friend in Pisco.

The glory of my experience of that operation was complimented greatly by the 3 hour conversation I had at the top with a couple other tourists. Very good conversation in which were produced many a funny phrase I will unleash at dinner parties of the future. The one had been traveling for the most part for ten years and was finally headed "home" to vermont in a few months. There are great conversations in life and this was one of them. May you wonder into Hippocampus and let me serve you coffee.

I will not fail to mention that my trip to Salinas was on my new BIKE! Yay! I bought a bike in the Saturday black market in Cuzco, just going there was awsome. I did very well for myself too. $50 got me a trusty steed. Titanium/Carbon Specialized Frame, Bomber Hybrid Push- Button Lock Shocks at 6" (Front), Fox fully adjustable rear shock at 6", Chris King head set, Avid Hydrolic Disc Brake System, Virginal White Taps, Carbon Fiber seat post with a Serius sadle, WTB wheels and Tires, and a Titanium Rack capable of sustaining 1900lbs. OH yeah. Coming in at just under 13 oz. I am very happy with the Beast. I sowed the plank of hard wood onto the rack with nylon line. I plan on selling it in Lima or Iquitos in a month. The trip to Salinas was the Maiden voyage for the Beast. It held up well on the very rocky and techinical down hill path. You could say it is a down hill bike, as in it functions way better if it is pointed down hill.

I mentioned Pisco before. I had planned on hiking up to the ruines above the town with Anna and her strange friend but the chill of the morning took me and I instead sipped hot chocolate, ate fruit and bread and witnessed the happenings of the market. I gazed at the scene over seen by the sacred tree there. I was later told by Phillipe where those trees are are wher there was a Incan Tempe. After an hour or so and a few peeks at the crafts being sold, I decided it was time to leave Cuzco.

I went back to Cuzco and finalized. I have been doing the majority of my buying Peruvian things in Cuzco and that day I purchased the last few items, boxed them up and handed them over to my "Madre Peruana", the owner of the Hostal "Magnolias" which I have to recomend if you are in Cuzco. She is going to mail them to me in Lima. Her name is Ivonne and shes on the far left. Phillipe, a young cabròn and my most consistent friend in Cuzco, is on my right hand. His nicknames fo rme included , Dirty Dog, Maricone, huevon! and zapatos de chocolatè (Chocolate boots). I then did a few internet things (my constant companion) and settled in for an all night bus ride to Puno on the north end of Lake Titicaca.

I had taken two sleeping pills which was quite effective. I know that we were supposed to arrive at 5 am. I woke up at 6:30 am on a then empty bus. Thankfully and luckily my stuff was still tucked away inside the baggage compartment. I exited the ever-smelly bus station and stepped into the calm of the morning. Thusly began a long and spectacular day.

I didn´t know what I wanted to do except get away from dirty automobiles and dirty city streets. So I got on my bike and began heading south along the shore of Titicaca. The first leg was on my bike about 25 kilometers. I passed beautiful things. I was in a kind of dream state still and my ass didn`t hurt yet so it was all so pleasent. The rock formations on that edge of the lake are like those I´ve seen in Goblin Valley or Arches National Park. Except that they are enveloped in terreced hills. Terraces everywhere from so long ago, they appear natural to the hills

themselves. I passed beautiful local women.

I passed huge rolls of the reeds the local people use to make the artisan boats that are famous in pics of the lake. A lady making one wouldn`t let me take her picture. Eventually I pulled into a town and decided to bus it a bit. I had to make change first though and so I stumbled into the only official looking building around right into a meeting in an office with my dirty self, "hi, can you guys break my hundred?". It actually was perfect. I met a woman there who is going to work at Terries Berries in Tacoma in a month. I happen to know that farm as a friend worked there once. We exchanged contact info and Hopefully I can introoduce her to some of you in Seattle in the near future. I am stoked. And

I got my change.

I proceeded by collectivo to the next small town and upon crossing it was abducted into a Carnival parade to dance with some ladies. No video but several pics. They gave me a couple shots of wine (its like 10:30am) and I was on my way. I passed a huge police truck that was more designd for warfare than civil affairs.

After the next small town I proceeded by bike once again, without any water. Great. The road was a series of flats and hills, down which I found a great feeling of freedom aided by both the natural sounds of the land and wind, and the unatural sounds of my ipod. Beauty.

The lake is surrounded by a few different crops but Quinoa is by far the most widely spread. It is very sexual. Trillions of seeds surrounding a great body, of water. I will mention here what I saw on the way out two days later, a streak or ridge of rock that looks like a serpent coming from the hills and immidiately about to enter the lake. Beauty.

I got to another small town, got some water and an Inca Cola in me and headed onward. Shortly I came to where the highway went right and a dirt road went left. The dirt road appeared to cut off a large triangle on my way to Yunguyo at the south end of the lake. So I took it. I was fortified in my confidence for a moment by a local guy I passed who told me, "yeah, just keep on going, you`ll head straight for Yunguyo." Lil, Punk. I say that cuz after about 2 miles I headed directly into a swamp. Heh heh heh. It was there I ate my last little muffin thing.

The dirt road became a submerged single track, then there was a raised path stretch with breaks in the levy passing water 1 ft. deep, then 3 ft. deep, then 4. Oh yes, this was after I forged the 3ft wide and some how 4 ft. deep little river at the frontier of the wetlands.

There was a current at the very last break in the levy, which somehow made me think it was a better idea toc straight through the reeds where I thought the depth wouldn`t be more than a few feet. I made it out 50 yards and turned back to the levy. At that point it was getting towards dusk and I was getting cold. Also, you may be aware that I have almost a phobia of things touching me under water. So, the cold and the rain clouds coming over the hills, and the underwater plants fondelling me all made me scream, "aaaahhhI`m an animal!!!!! Yall can`t Hold me!!!!!!". God it sounds so silly now. But the extremeness of the fear I feel when plants touch me under water is pretty silly. After 3 trips, bike, Big pack and small pack with clothes, I whipped my clothes back on and began to try and outrun the approaching storm.

I hit the highway, apart from which I was about 3oo feet., and hammered. Luckily I almost immidiately encountered a collectivo that I grabbed onto and let lead me towards Yunguyo at 30mph or so. Except damn!, they only went about 6 miles and turned around. I asked the last guy to get off how far Yunguyo was and he told me about 10 kilometers. Easy. I busted that out in a half hour or so but by the time I got to whatever nowhere town I stopped in I was cold, hungry and according to dude there, about 10 kilometers from Yunguyo. In a NY minute from out of the middle of nowhere came a collectivo shaped, private car that was run by 3 shadey dudes. They charged me 10 soles (normally it would have been 1) to go to the center of Yuguyo. It was shadey as they kept asking me to sell them my bike and my camera. I lied in a quick and smooth, panic driven way, that I had already been robbed of my camera, which is actually true. In anycase I made it to town and into a hostal. That was about it for me after some more Chicken and Frenchfries, except for the fat that carnival was in full swing. I have to say I was not into it. I will say unabashedly here, I really don`t like the vast majority of traditional Peruvian music. In fact, I fucking hate it. I´m glad the Peruvian people love it. I love the flute and the Pan Pipes. A lot of what I here though is extremely off-key and the music that night seemed like the end of that Beattles song, "I read the news today, oooohhh boy". That part where all the instruments grow in strength and disintegration. Anyway. Eventually I did fall asleep, with a smile on my face.

The Day in Yunguyo pretty much blew. I spent it dealing with email negotiations and legal investigative crap. The lowlight was being unable to access my money except back in Puno, where I am now. I returned yesterday after the final and 6th denial inside a bank like thing. Getting directions at all is frustrating in Latin America but getting misinformation about being able to have enough cash on me to eat and/or make it back to Puno ( I was that low) (and yes Nigel I see you clearly in my mind reffering to the extra $100 that saved your ass in England on the train. Thanks) , is very frustrating. I was mad enough in that last chance bank yesterday morning to call all the security guards Mentirosos y Putas as I stormed out. That was real smart K. I am glad I walked away from that one. In addition, it was still Carnival there. This was generally a positive thing, as festivities go, but the whole foam and balloons thing was still in full effect and my white ass is an easy target. I was literally employing all the skills I learned from all those boy-war games I grew up with to navigate the streets and escape packs of young boys. Party pooper, killjoy, call me what you will, it sucks to be hit with a water ballon or foam shit out of the blue when you are already cold and stressed.

Anyhoo,

I have noticed I am more apt to respond aggressively as of late. No doubt this is tied to my feelings suroundig IFFL. I am not running around being an asshole tourist though. I am quite aware of my relative position in life. And I am very friendly almost al the time (don`t worry my PC friends). But things like not shaking the hand of the bully on the bus who was physically waxing his violent ego all over his band mates, and giving him a small peice of my mind about it (not enough). Or forcfully telling the guy who sold me dead batteries what was up. These things I stand behind to a large extent. The part where I am not sleeping even though I am pretty tired because I can feel the anger in my chest and arms (interesting from a physiological point of view), that part I don`t like. I am working with this, but please continue to envision me without problems from the police. I came to close in Mexico few years ago. Thank you.

Thank you also for still reading this! Damn its long!

A few more things I wanna talk about here.

Number 1.) Food!

Food Rocks! as we all know. The food down here is a mix of the constant and at times boring dishes of amazing consistency, and the new to me and exotic jewels I am finding. The consistent dishes are quite that. Calso de pollo (chicken soup, always with chicken feet in it), and Rotiserie Chicken with French fries are near daily rituals. Sometimes more than once. Variations on the them are welcome. Such as last nights dinner: Two fried eggs and a fried chicken leg over pasta with mayonaise all over the pile. Mmmmmmmmmmm. Other Comidas Tipicas (common food) are very much a bland kind of richness, like a potatoe-soup-like-thing over white rice. Or a chunk of some kinda meat, from all parts of the animals, fried and placed over - white rice.

Then there are the jewels. (Literally, look at the pic!) This morning I discovered this stuff. (Below )It is a pasta-ish thing, lightly sugared and air-puffed. It is just like Honeycomb cereal! Hell yes! Prickly pears have become to me high ranked fruits, next to fresh mangos, pears and peaches. They are really seedy but you just eat that. The first time I ate one I spit them all out and gathered looks that said, "you digusting and ignorant white man."

Earlier today (2 days later) I ate the best civiche I have ever had. I have been shying away from raw fish here, but I realized my problem and did away with it. I felt high, like at Cafè Gratitude in SF but with meat! God it was good. That shot glass in the pictutre is full of the civiche juice. That was also good. Gotta add that to the raw food diet for real. The platter was 15 soles, ($5 USD.)

Elsewhere I have said this before, but I so appriciate the Rawness of food down here. The markets here (not limited to food items) still follow Adam Smiths original vision of the "Market place", with individuals (people) being the base economic unit. Not corporations, which are this in the "1st" world. The consumer and seller are, socially and power dynamicly speaking, on for more equal footing in this form of capitolism. Fair pricing, a scarcity in the U.S. for a list of reasons, is a product of this situation. As can be, but is not neccesarily and is in no way here, fair treatment of the life resources (animals, plants the environment in general) that fundamentally support all economies. In addition, fridgerators are superfluous. Dig?

Chicha is the final food I`ll wax about. It is actually a drink made from the blue corn here (corn that is a world diferent than the yello and white candy we have in the states - you can live on it). It is delicious. I plan on having some of this stuff at my Birthday Bash this summer. I hope I can make some exceptable chicha. I haven`t had all kinds cuz they are always foamy and unrefridgerated, (heh heh heh) but there are all kinds. Fruits, veggies etc. no meat drinks. It is commonly excepted that the indians who worked for the conquistadors in the hills lived only on Chicha and chewed Coca leaves.

I want to talk about some cultural differences too.

The main advertisement for the commercially produced chicha emorada (kinda like fruit punch, nowhere near as good as the natural stuff) is La Negrita. La Negrita literally translates to "the little negro girl", and she is one of three black people I have seen in Peru. She is on T.V. I would love to listen to the dialoge in the marketing meeting that produced these adds. I can`t say they are racist, anymore than everything is. I can say they are funny as hell because you would never ever see an add like that in the States. By the way, one of the more common questions I get, right after "where are you from", translates literally to, "wow man, so... what do you think of your president being a Negro!".

Another occurence here is reaction caused by what must be a huge counterfit currency business here. Every bill I drop is inspected, down to the tens. This morning I had a 5 sole coin rejected cuz it looked different from the one the cashier produced. Her`s was from 1995 and was dull. Mine was from 2007 and was shiny. No deal. That is how it is here. It is the reason I couldn´t cash my travelers check in Yunguyo too. The signatures where slightly off. It is a paranoid environment.

We are all accostomed to sex selling everything but it is extreme here. (in my eyes) Everything from paint, to fertalizer and of course beer. I am inspired to create a similar campaign but using somthing else we (almost) all enjoy, like puppies.

Earlier today (2 days later) after the Civichè and prepping my bike to ride to the coast tommorow, I jumped into Lake Titicaca. It was approaching too cold but I was there because I didn`t want to visit the lake without taking one plunge. I was hesitating becuase there were a lot of people around including kids. I thought I`d be making a huge cultural offense if I stripped and jumped in. This kept me waiting for people to leave until I finally said, "I gotta do this" and did it. Ya know what happened, ? NOTHING, Nobody reacted. Not even in the States have I had that (Non) reaction. There were about 9 people present. I jumped off a barge in the Gulf Of Mexico some years back (oh yeah, I looked just like Axel Rose in in the "Estranged" Video.) and I got in deep trouble with the captian and the first mate. They totally guilted me for 10 minutes with a deep and heart felt cultural lecture. I am glad to let go of that image covering all of South America.

Last night (2 days later) was my last night in Puno. Puno is a dirty city and I was out riding my bike around feeling adventurous. I had a wild attitude but also somewhat pejorative and cynical. My interpretations of other people actions were negatively skewed. I sat against a wall on the street eating my hot ground beef empenadas and a slice of gelatine cake. I was high on my horse you could say. Suddenly, this woman walked backed to me (she had passed me by 100 feet) and asked me where I was sleeping that night. (I guess I looked that bad, not the first time I`ve been mistaken for a street kid. I got offered money once!). I told her I was ok, but thanked her very much for her honest concern. My heart was warmed and a smile steaked naked across the highschool grounds of my face. 4 minutes later on my way home, sombody threw at me what had to be a few gallons of water (judging just from the loudness of its !SLAP! on the street) from a roof top high above. They missed though and the warm feeling in my heart was not extinguished.

Finally Trash,

Trash here is thrown directly into the streets. It is then picked up by people who work for the city. Recyclables, (at least bottles , plastic and glass) are picked out of the trash and reused or recycled. It is an interesting set up. For one it is amazingly convienient!. If I have trash (in the city), I just put it down. Thats it! On the other (heavy) hand, anywhere outside the jurisdiction of the city cleaner-uppers, is a mess. Trash is everywhere. In rivers, open sewers, (somtimes indistinguishable), along paths and roads, and all along the edges of water bodies.

Huh. It tempts my progressive western environmentally sensative white ass towards judgment. I am also aware of the scale on which we pollute in slightly less visable ways. Ahh Perry Ferrel, "and the water will run". Ahh Tool, "MA, please flush it all away"

Vamos a ver que va a pasar en esos tiempos cambiandos.

(We´ll see what happens in these times of change)

For my purposes, I´m gonna go surf.

If I can find a board and a wave.

Thank you for you patronage.

Hasta la proxima.


P.S. I am gonna start adding in entries every week. Smaller ones. This one took hours to write and upload. Future ones will be smaller and more present. This means however, that I am not gonna send out an email reminder every time I write one. I´ll probably send one out but this is wheat and chaff time, either you like reading this or you don`t. It`s totally for my grand kids anyway! But thanks for reading it. Peace, KLW