Four years ago: Machu Picchu

This post is the email I sent from Cusco, Peru to my friends and family on April 23, 2009, with some photos added here. Something about the date today triggered a memory, and I went back into my Gmail archives. It has been wonderful to revist these memories- I'm not saying this is in my plans, but if I found myself returning to Peru, I would be sublimely happy.

...

Yesterday I was in Machu Picchu.

It was the reason I came to this country, and I saw it for myself. I went by El Camino Inka, the three day trek through the mountains of the Sacred Valley, down into the beginning of the rainforest, past other ruins that are almost as impressive as the main attraction. El camino (the road) was a sacred route to Machu Picchu used by the Inkas. Sunday was an easy day– hostel pickup at 6 am, then a bus ride to km.82, the starting point of the hike. It was sunny, my Quechua guide did a nice little ceremony on the first bridge for us (all things positive come from upstream, all negative things are swept away). US was me, and Anasol and Valeria, from Argentina. Because I apparently pass muster with the Spanish crowd now–they didn’t put me with the rest of the gringos! When I finally introduced myself to the American half of our group before lunch I startled them–they assumed I didn’t speak any English.

Lunch was amazing, in that the porters, who outnumbered us, assembled a dining tent, cooking tent, and a full meal in forty-five minutes at our halfway point. These porters are truly astounding–they run past you on the trail in their sandals carrying tents and chairs and groceries for three days...only they can make you feel lazy while you are hiking and sweating. I did my best to explain in Spanish during the porter-thanking ceremony that they are the reason my dream was possible. Dishing out coca leaves mid-trail was also appreciated...the giant wads they chew could have something to do with their stamina.

I don't remember the name of these ruins, but they bowled me over. You walk up to a ridge, look over, and this lays before you.

The second day was five unbroken hours of uphill. It was beautiful. And the top? They call it Dead Woman’s Pass.  I was very grateful for my iPod. But then you descend into a view that makes it all worth it (vale la pena).

Looking down, heading up to Dead Woman's Pass, a 3,000-foot climb.

Looking up

I was a bit cracked out on coca leaves and mesmerized by these ancient patterns of rock (I was chewing the leaves. Which is legal in Peru. You get a mild stimulant effect, they suppress appetite, relieve body aches, et cetera. They are essential for life at 13,000 feet). This trek was from about 11,500 feet to almost 14,000-- lucky me, I'd been acclimating over the months of my stay in Cusco.

This doesn't look like a dead woman to me.

The trail for the following day.

The third day is considered the most beautiful, because you travel the farthest (thankfully only two hours of up!) And you cross the second pass, and all of a sudden you have come down into the beginning of the rainforest. Ferns, orchids, vines, plants growing from tree branches. That frog/bird/insect “rainforest” sound. And appropriately, it rained on us. Hiking in the rain is fun! ...Did you pick up my tone on that one? If I had not already come to love sock liners, dorky raincoats, and quick-dry pants, I would have then.

How twisted and interesting is it that being in this place made me think first of screensavers, and then of Disneyland? “Look at this! Waterfall, dripping moss, brightcolored bird! It’s like those changing screensavers! Or like the jungle ride, only real!” I don’t know what this says. Dissertation about technology, or about manufacturing reality, someone? In the end I guess it just reaffirms the value of experiencing something real for yourself. And through the rain, we got a glimpse of Winaywayna, the last camp, just around the mountain from Machu Picchu. And I began to get very excited.

Winaywayna

So at four a.m. yesterday, we got up, ate our pancakes (I love you, porters) and began the last section of the trail at 5:30. And it was dark, and still raining. They told us to go slow, but I am impatient. But I hurried for nothing, because although I was one of the first to Intipunku (Sun Gate), the famous first view was just fog. Twenty minutes later, around seven, I was in Machu Picchu. And could barely see it. I told myself I had all day to wait...

I climbed Wayna Picchu, the sacred mountain that overlooks the ruins. My friend Keidi who went before I did was right to call it the Inka Stairmaster. Do the forty minute program, and you get a few glimpses of the famous view. But I was happy anyway, and finally ate my Hershey’s bar atop the ruins there.

The majestic and famous view of Machu Picchu...not.

This is the sort of unparalleled stonework that allowed Inka buildings to stand for hundreds of years longer than modern technologies would allow...and the Inkas didn't even use mortar. And they're building on fault lines. And they didn't even invent the wheel!

I began to feel very afraid of disappointment during the tour, just because the rain and fog continued...I needed to see the picture in my head, in reality. The two had to meld together, or I might not feel like I had truly been there. It was scary how important this felt. And then? I ask Carolina, the Argentinian woman I shared a tent with on the hike, to take the first picture of me in the ruins. And my camera battery dies.

I had been so stupid to doubt my crazy paranoid fear of this happening to me! Taking pictures very sparingly on the hike had not worked! I could. Not. Believe it.

But I dealt with it very quietly. I think she assumed I had another battery. But no. I told myself, you will just ask Ana and Valeria to take a few pictures. You will email them, asking them to send the pictures to you. This does not matter. And that is how it was. I am even glad, because now I for certain will have contact again with them. And have a couch to sleep on in Buenos Aires, I think. Because we passed the morning at the café, huddling under an umbrella, drinking our cafecitos, laughing about how “Siempre tienes que pagar! Pagar! Pagar! Nunca en mi pais tienes que pagar para ir al baño! Nunca!” (It may not be much, but you have to pay, pay, pay, to travel here. Need to pee? Get your coin purse.)

And then the walnut I left for Inti on the highest pass paid off. The sun came out. We ran back in. And it was like I dreamed! I probably spent three hours just looking at it. This is the most personal part of my trip. I don’t know WHY I have been so transfixed with this place. I don’t even know that much about it (no one does). It is all intuitive. But along with being architectural geniuses, and an amazing people, the Inkas had something in common with realtors. Location, location, location. The site is cradled by mountains, in a place made for it. The condor shape of the ruins lies surrounded by mountains, the Urubamba river winds around all sides. It’s lower than all the surrounding mountains (perhaps why it wasn’t found until 1911) but still all alone, thousands of meters above the river. Especially because I had worked for it for 28 miles, I had a sense of the surrounding mountains, how it was connected to the highlands. And as my mom said while I was philosophizing about rationalizations for my mesmerization, Maybe it’s because it’s really beautiful.

It was totally fulfilling. Because for me, there is not another place on the planet that I have felt this way about. That I would travel to see like I have with Machu Picchu. I felt like a pilgrim, but to what I don’t know. I realized that I no longer need to do things just to prove that I can do anything I decide to do– I have done it, there’s nothing else like this. I DO need to do something with that knowledge. And I do need to travel more. It makes me learn, and it makes me feel gratitude.

SO. Tore myself away. Went to the town below the ruins. Found a hostel, with a private room and bathroom, for 20 soles. This is a great price, let me tell you (about $8). So I bought stuff to clean up (remember: I wore the same thing for three straight days, then got rained on) and food for dinner. Remembered I had no bowl for my yogurt/granola/banana. So I borrowed one from the too-complimentary, too-inclined-to-climb-the-stairs-behind-me hostel man Percy. Fine.

After eating, to the showers! I realize I have no towel, so I go down and rent one for five soles from Percy. Fine.

But then, there’s no hot water. So I get dressed, go tell Percy. He comes and checks (sort of creepy), changes the gas tank, still nothing. He says, ehhh, yeah, no hot water, this happens sometimes. Of course it does. Muchas gracias.

Then, I clog the toilet. Sorry. But it’s part of the story. And twice scare myself badly, trying to flush things down. Decide to leave it, no big deal, serves them right anyway for not having hot water.

I finally resolved to take a shower anyway, since I really needed it, and it wouldn’t kill me, and would probably make me feel better. But it was...colder than I could handle. Ice cold. I got soaking wet and got out.

I had just dressed and was combing my hair when Percy knocked and said the hot water was back. Of course it was. So even though I didn’t really want to any more, I took a shower. Dried with the wet towel. Dressed again, in the rain-damp clothes.

The best decision I made all evening was buying beer (A beer! Singular! Mi pastilla para dormir/sleeping pill.) Just didn’t know how much I would need it. Second best, buying an Inka Cola T-shirt, which I’m still wearing as I type back in Cusco, because everything was dirty and wet/is at the laundry. Very interesting that these little things, when they have a few kinks, can be so stressful. It was the most worked up I was for the whole trek. More than when my camera died in Machu Picchu before I even got a decent picture of myself there. There’s no profound reason that traveling makes you grateful for little things!

Tomorrow, to Iquitos. And I have no expectations. Therefore I expect to not be disappointed.

I’m back in a week. Thank you for reading. I hope it has been worthwhile. I am incubating a plan to have all of you come join me for photo/video-viewing, Peruvian food, Chilean wine, and trinket-distributing.

Love!

Two afterthoughts, in reference to my night in the hostel:
1) I yell “Shit!!!” at retrospectively appropriate moments. Unfunny moments.
2) That town was called Aguas Calientes (hot water).

The picture I took back in Cusco, while my laundry dried, after I tried to turn on my camera...and it turned on. It's a mystery...our guide said that Machu Picchu was a place of mysterious and holy energy, and that the energy was so strong people often had trouble with their electronics. Guess my camera died...then was reincarnated.

More of the same/"unbearably fabulous"

Which is to say, "something that has just moved me."

Robert Bly, “His Nest”:

It’s all right if this suffering goes on for years.
It’s all right if the hawk never finds his own nest.
It’s all right if we never receive the love we want.
It’s all right if we listen to the sitar for hours.
It doesn’t matter how softly the musician plays.
Sooner or later the melody will say it all.
It doesn’t matter if we regret our crimes or not.
The mice will carry our defeats into Asia,
And the Tuva throat-singers will tell the whole story.
It’s all right if we can’t remain cheerful all day.
The task we have accepted is to go down
To renew our friendship with the ruined things.
It’s all right if people think we are idiots.
It’s all right if we lie face down on the earth.
It’s all right if we open the coffin and climb in.
It’s not our fault that things have gone wrong.
Let’s agree that it was Saturn and the other old men
Who have arranged this series of defeats for us.

From my favorite news-and-everything-else site.

Future Feminism

"We have created our society in man's image. But now the ecology is collapsing. We have abused the bodies of women and the body of the earth in the same ways. We are reaching the end of His story. Our old methods of survival as a species are becoming the cause of our downfall.

Men must find the humility to retreat. Women must step forward and start to forge a new way forward for our species and for all of nature. If there is to be a future on earth that includes us, it will be feminine."

Don't resist it just because it's subversive. Do think for a moment about how much we need characteristics like cooperation and emotional expressiveness that are most often associated with femininity and most valued in women. And remember that true insight can come from fashion blogs...

What happened in 2012

I started the year at a party in Chelsea with my friend Isaline, who I met in Peru in 2009.

I visited Patagonia, AZ with Milad just before the start of the spring semester.

I was chosen as the manager of my Master's program workshop group, which incidentally, was working on a project in Patagonia, Chile.

I stressed out majorly about all the stressful and challenging things that came along with managing this project, but I learned so many things and never for a second wished I didn't have this responsibility.

Xandi, Alice, and Alison came to visit me in NYC. There was a particularly emotional moment before Alice left because it was the end of spring break and I was so overwhelmed at all the work left to do, and I didn't want her to leave!

My team completed our workshop project and briefings with incredible success, without missing major deadlines or majorly screwing up in any way.

I completed all my classes. I spent a crazy last few days of the spring semester working for 14 hours straight in the library...actually, that only seems crazy now. I regularly spent my days like this during the program. No job that ends at 6pm can ever be as hard as this program was.

My whole family and Milad came to NYC in May for my graduation.

I moved home on the last day of May, and went straight to LA where Milad was working for the summer. I spent most of the summer there, coming home to take state employment tests and go to interviews.

The job that I started working to get in March finally interviewed me in July, made an offer, and then it was two months of agonizing delays and uncertainties. This purgatory was the original reason I quit posting here...I couldn't stand to dwell upon the situation and I kept hoping I would have good news. Until suddenly one day I was hired. I got that glorious email while I was at the Biosphere in AZ, where my Master's program was founded. (My program was 12 months long because they stayed at the Biosphere the whole time that first year.)

I went to the Grand Canyon all by myself.

I came home from AZ on a Saturday and started work Monday, September 17.

I got the exact job that I always wanted, that I was perfectly prepared for, where I do things that I want to do and care about. I still can't believe it.

I have started running. Get some motivation over Thanksgiving weekend, add in cute running equipment and before the year's end apparently you'll complete a 3.7 miler in 45 minutes.

My mom's cancer came back.

Milad and I took a weekend trip to Seattle for my birthday.

I moved into my first apartment alone. It has been two weeks and I have moved in completely. It is 6 blocks from my work. I am very happy to be at that stage where the things on my want list are cloth napkin sets and picture frames.

I am getting to spend a week with Milad, including New Years. I wonder what 2013 will bring.

There's only one thing on this list that does not make me happy to think of. There's no way to know what the future holds; give thanks for the items on your list that are blessings, and accept that there will always be a few curses. Though the curses can dim the entire rest of your life, remember: That which you focus on, expands.

IF you are at work

Then you are allowed to not watch this video right now. Otherwise, no excuse.

Interesting how all these people are AT SXSW, witnessing exuberant live music, and are nearly motionless electronic-recording-device zombies....they are grooving out so much less than I would have been, had I been there, indeed much less than I actually am while listening to this song. Although I guess it's thanks to the zombies that I can groove out to it at all.

The joyful job search

I've been thinking about this job search of mine - and although it's really only been 5 weeks since I graduated, and three weeks of full-time job searching, I feel very positive about it. I am going to try to keep this feeling as long as possible-- as long as it takes. (I started writing this post a week and a half ago, and feel it bottled up inside me!)

Yeah, I'm unemployed with lots of debt. But actually, this job search is the luckiest situation I've ever gotten myself into. I have literally been working to get to this point since I was in high school and decided I wanted to do something about climate change for my career. And now I'm actually allowed and permitted and qualified to go searching for that one place that is just right for me. I believe I can find a job making our biggest problems less bad, and there are many job postings, not stars, in my eyes. Being able to go after what you want is a blessing.

How can a job search be joyful?

• Reiterating my qualifications in endless permutations is actually a positive experience. In the process I become extremely convinced of my suitability for the particular position. It feels good. The job search is joyful because the marketer in me comes out and has fun selling the product.
  
• This positivity is ego-boosting because upon reflection I think that my situation is a result of choices and resolutions that I made. I am well-qualified for the jobs I actually want; I have a well-rounded skill set, and this is thanks to my own decisions. I passed the exam for a technical position (that I now have an interview for)-- because the only Master's program I considered taking was the one that was half science. I knew it would be necessary. I was thinking ahead. The job search is joyful because it is intrinsically validating.
  
• I am constantly thinking about the opportunities that other people gave to me. My dad had worked with someone at New America, so I got an interview. My mentors and colleagues at New America handed me golden opportunity after golden opportunity-- to write, research, give presentations, manage projects...The list stretches all the way back, and I could never thank everyone who helped me (and they are still going to bat for me) enough. So the job search is joyful because it makes me feel gratitude.

The most joyful part about this search will of course be the end of it. Because:

1. I'm not always able to stay so positive-- uncertainty and financial insecurity is fuel for fears at those moments when I'm alone in my car, burning CO2, or awake at night, or checking my balances, and 
2. The selection of temptations at Urban Outfitters is truly heartbreaking in the summertime.

Lo mejor está por venir.

So now

Now I am in LA. I've been here since the 31st, when I left Manhattan and arrived at LAX with my precisely 100 pounds of checked luggage (and at least another 75 pounds in my sneaky 3 carry-ons).

What have I been doing so far? Applying for jobs (1 so far this week, another slated for tomorrow), jumping and straining around in the boyfriend's studio apartment with the boyfriend to the accompaniment of P90X workout tapes (today will be day 6), taking lots (well, some) of pictures of the studio and neighborhood (and playing with Instagram, obviously). I read an excellent book about love, set in New York, that I found in a free books pile at 3am. Networking is big on the list, and I'm making good progress. But it's hard to not feel aimless when you're a recent grad without a job.

While I was in New York, I often felt like all I really wanted was to be able to live in the same place as the boyfriend, live together, have a job and normal lives with each other in them every day. I still want that, and obviously staying at home in this studio alone all day doesn't really qualify as having a normal life-- what's missing is the job for me. The fulfillment of working for a cause. But since I've come back I've been very aware of just how HUMAN it is to always feel as though something else, and it is always something, and it doesn't matter what it is, is that missing puzzle piece. This doesn't mean I'm not happy now. It just means that I think it's a little sad that we always feel something is missing. When do we ever feel happy with our lives exactly the way they are? I feel like as soon as the boyfriend and I are living in the same place, AND we both have jobs, AND we're healthy and can pay our bills, and so can the people we care about, AND we can get a puppy, AND I can travel again...then I'll be happy with my life exactly the way it is. ...until then, what? (And when that does happen, will something else become the puzzle piece? Probably.) And why shouldn't I be completely happy with a short vacation here with him?...

Always feeling "only if..." is no way to live.

So now I am going to vacuum, and work on my resume, and finish laundry, and get myself through the 'hood to the grocery store. The pizza plan for tonight is out due to oven-non-working-ness, so we need another option. I'm thinking fish tacos.