And After Much Ado...It's Spring!

I admit, there has been some silence from my corner of this blog; however, I will attribute it to my travels rather than a sad lack of motivation and dedication to the blogosphere.
Over the long study tour, first we went to Tallinn, Estonia.

The Swedish flag in the background is the Embassy. I was, indeed, in Estonia.

 There was a medieval old town that has been there since the times of the Vikings. There was also the world's best hot chocolate, which I was originally skeptical of, as I have had some good cocoa in my time. However, after drinking at Josephine's, I was a believer. They steamed milk and poured it over a block of chocolate. I am also a convert to the chocolate-chili pairing, as a result of a delicious truffle I had there.

And the ambiance left nothing to be desired.

After Estionia, we took a cruise boat to Helsinki, Finland. It was equally cold there.

While in Tallinn, the old city was separated by a wall from the new city, in Helsinki old architectural styles were side-by-side the new. There were also electric street cars criss-crossing the city.

The pastries in Helsinki were unlike anything I had every had before, so of course I ate them for lunch nearly every day. This one is a bread-like sweet roll with a sort of ricotta cheesy center, topped with blueberries.
Over a long weekend, I skipped class  a few days and went to London and Edinburgh.
London was warm, large, and multi-cultural, all characteristics which Denmark lacks.

The London Eye, Big Ben, and Parliament by night

Edinburgh was unlike anything I had experienced before. It had the medieval characteristics of Tallinn, but none of the Soviet influence, there was a castle, and it was built in the valley and hills of the remainder of an old volcano. 

The view from Calton Hill: Arthur's Seat and Edinburgh

Both London and Edinburgh felt foreign, yet the people there spoke English, which was a strange feeling. 

The best evening in Edinburgh involved going to two different pubs and experiencing two different sorts of "traditional" music and having an (Irish) beer. Also not disappointing were the many old bookstores with shelves from floor to ceiling and books spilling out from every possible nook.

The past two and a half weeks I spent on spring break gallivanting around Europe. 

First stop: Rome

View from the top of the Spanish Steps

Highlights include: gelato nearly every night, old things around every corner, roof-top gardens. While I was not blessed by the pope, I had the good fortune to fill my water bottle at the Vatican, and hydrated myself with holy water.

There was also some really good food.

 

Next stop: Florence

While this is not Florence itself, my favorite part of the city was actually the view from the beautiful Tuscan countryside. During this part of the trip, we saw the important artistic works (David, Venus, you name it) but also spent quality time in parks enjoying the scenery.

One very important night involved walking around from pastry shop to pastry shop and trying Florence sweets, all of which were more citrusy and almondy than anything else. One even involved rice on the inside, which was an adventure.

Last stop: Paris

Similar to Florence, Paris involved many cultural activities and parks. 

Examples include Versailles

Giverney (Monet's house and gardens)

 

Less park-like, but equally important, was the consumption of a nutella crepe on the bank of the Siene. 

 And of course, back in Denmark the weather is warming up and it's finals time. Perhaps the worst combination I can think of. At least I have the pastries!

A view of la Basilica y el Panecillo from my office

Just a normal day here at the office.  Translation: boring, boring, boring.  It might be the back pain I´m having from sitting in an uncomfortable chair for 4 hours now, or it might be the slightly fuzzy vision I have from staring at a brilliantly light computer screen for 4 hours now--either way, feeling pessimistic.
  To lighten the mood, I´m sure all will rejoice to hear that I have my spirit back.  It seems that I had lost it, though I never got that memo.  STORY TIME!  So, I traveled with my group to Otavalo this weekend, a small little pueblo near Quito.  It´s simply beautiful.  First stop was at a health clinic that practices both occidental and indigenous medicine.  We got to volunteer for indigenous cleansings and I was down for that.  The options were to be rubbed all over by a guinea pig that would then be killed in front of you and have its guts read, OR be rubbed all over by a harmless egg that would then be cracked and read.  I went with the latter choice.

I stood in the middle of the room and the medicine woman literally rubbed an egg all over my body.  Upon cracking it and examining the yolk and white, she told me that ¨tienes espanto", which basically means that I am scared and so my spirit has left my body.  Well, I knew why I was scared but how to get my spirit back?  Fortunately, it seemed that my case of espanto was dire enough to merit a ritual healing process.  So I sat in a chair while she rubbed me all over with rocks, muttering in kichwa.  Maybe nothing happened, but for me it really was an intense experience that left me feeling much calmer after.

The rest of our weekend there was a whole lot of fun.  We stayed with indigenous families and went to the mercado artesenal, where there are hundreds of stands set up with indigenous goods.  I may have gone a little crazy but can you really pass up the chance to buy an alpaca wool blanket?  Also, I got to practice my bargaining skills, and was able to make the meager $40 I brought go a long way.  Go me!

Best part was probably Saturday night, when I met the son, Ramiro, of the woman in whose house we were staying.  Turns out that he is part of a group in Otavalo that plays traditional Andean music, and he was very excited to have the band come over and give us a little concert.  It was amazing, beautiful, soul-warming, I could go on and on.  The different instruments that you don´t normally see in a band: the charango, andean pipes, el bombo--all just added to a concert that filled my alma with a sense of completeness. 

It was hard coming back to Quito, back to real life, but with only 4 weeks left, I figure I need to take advantage of what this country has to offer.  And I´ll be able to enjoy it all so much more now that I am complete with my spirit.

Living it up in Quito, Ecuador

So, it's been a loooong while since I've posted. I'm just generally terrible at keeping up with blogs.

Anyway, I've been in Quito for about 2.5 months now.  Places I've visited so far: Banos, Mindo, Yasuni (the Amazon!!), Esmeraldas, and Otavolo (this weekend).  Not bad, though there are still plenty of places I want to go before leaving.  I'm headed to the beach for Semana Santa and staying in the hotel of a friend.  Should be pretty legit.  There just isn't enough time for everything-I only have 5 weeks left in Ecuador before jetting of to Rio for 2 weeks.  My life is hard.

Observations so far regarding Quito and Ecuador in general:

1. Men are pigs here.  At least, the ones you see on the street here who whistle and make sexist comments.  The worst is when you pass a dude and he mumbles under his breath "princesa", "hermosa", etc.  It grosses me out!  I mean, really, the next time some man makes a pass at me, I might just punch him into sterility.  That being said, not all men are like that.  Just most of them.


2. Family-based culture is the bomb.  I've come to the realization that Americans are generally colder and more distant in their relationships.  I'm comparing this not to the Brits but to the Latinos who host crazy parties that involve all of their family (distant and nuclear) because most everyone lives within half an hour of each other.  I don't know about you but I really like eating carne asada with both my grandma and my cousin (three times removed).  That just sounds like a darn good ol' time.  Also, I'm convinced that it is a healthier way to live since you get the support system of your family at a closer range.

3. Parties are better in Spanish.  No joke.  Yes, half the time I'm just kind of blabbing verbs that aren't conjugate correctly with the few nouns I seem to be able to retain in my brain, but Ecuadorians know how to have fun.  It helps that the drinking age here is 18--wow, what a concept (America!).  Also, it's not all just grinding in a monotonous manner on the dance floor.  People here know how to dance.  Salsa, Bachata, Marimba, you name it and they probably can whip it out in front of you.  If you are in Quito, hit up La Mariscal.  Yes, it is the most touristy section of Quito and you'll encounter tons of blond Germans, but it is also the nightlife center of the city.  Super fun, a great selection of clubs and bars, and ladies get in free most of the places (God, I love being a woman).

4. The Amazon is Amazo-ing!  Okay, that was a terrible play on words but nonetheless true.  I went with my program to Sani Lodge near Yasuni National Park and I seriously debated hiding in a tree so I wouldn't have to leave.  It's just too gorgeous.  You think you've seen it in the movies?  Nothing compared to the real thing.  The fantastic hues of green, the hot humidity that smacks you in the face, the ambiental noise of birds and howler monkeys constantly in the background--it is all so real.  We went on walks through the jungle, encountered sneaky caiman on our nightime canoe rides, swam in a piranha-infested lagoon ... everything. 

This picture was taken from a canoe on our way to one of our jungle walks.  Okay, I'm not the best photographer but just so you get an idea of it all. 

There is so much more to say about Ecuador but it's hard to put it all into words.  I'll try to be better about updates.

Hayley

Also, for the sake of Emma, I must also add this picture:

 Emma, I think you'll agree that we are a cute couple. ;)

That one time in the Amazon...

You know those days when something crazy is happening and in the middle of it you look around at everyone you’re with and say, wow, when we get out of this situation, this is going to make a great story? Well here is my great story. It’s about being held hostage in the Peruvian Amazon.

This past weekend my program took us to Iquitos, the only city in the huge department of Loreto in northern Peru. Loreto is so big in comparison to the other departments (same as states in the US) because it is all jungle and the population density is very low. The city is only accessible by plane or by river because it is so far away from everything else, so we had to fly from Cusco to Lima and Lima to Iquitos. It was so different than Cusco that it almost didn’t feel like Peru to me. The Amazon River was only a few blocks away from our hotel! And wow, this place was very very hot and humid, kind of a shock after high altitude Cusco. The most popular forms of transportation are motorcycle or mototaxi, basically a motorcycle with a covered seat that fits two people attached to the back. There are also buses but I would guess that at least 80% of the vehicles in the city were motorcycles, aka traffic is extremely loud and unpredictable. But enough about the city and on to the real story.

One of the main activities during our time in Iquitos was a visit to a village of the Cocama people called 2 de Mayo, one of 54 Cocama villages located on the Río Marañón (one of the two main headwaters of the Amazon; the Amazon officially starts being called the Amazon when it passes through Iquitos). Sunday morning at 6am we left Iquitos on a bus to drive two hours to Nauta, a port town on the edge of the river. We waited about an hour and left Nauta with the group of 25 students, three program staff, and a couple people from an NGO split between four different boats. Every boat except ours had some sort of engine problem within the first few hours and the captain of my boat, evidently the resident motor repair expert, had to keep going back to help the other captains fix their motors.

I was in a boat with Donaldo, the assistant academic director, and nine girls from my program. We thought we lucked out because our motor hadn’t broken down at all so far, but after stopping for a bathroom break at a random field filled with cow patties on the side of the river, the engine wouldn’t start. All the other boats had gone ahead so we waited about two and a half hours for the captain to fix the motor. By the time it was fixed around 3pm, we were already way behind the original schedule for the day. We were supposed to have arrived in 2 de Mayo at 10am to hang out with the community and do interviews before lunch around 1pm. So our biggest worry at this point was that we had missed lunch. We had some snacks like packaged cookies on our boat but since we had eaten breakfast at 5:30am we were still really hungry.

So we keep going in our boat and about an hour later pull up to a small community where our captain shouts to a man, where is 2 de Mayo? Which is when we realize, we’ve already come at least four hours and you don’t even know where we are going?! The man points in the opposite direction where we just came from, great. So we turn around and go through a little side part of the river instead. Everything seems promising, we are finally getting close, but all of a sudden we run out of gasoline! We kind of coast up to the shore and the captain and his friend tie the boat up to a stick stuck into the riverbank and literally run off without saying anything else to us. So we are left waiting for them to come back, hopefully with more gasoline so we can finally make it to 2 de Mayo and eat lunch.

Soon after we realize that we have happened to dock in a part of the river with about 20 mosquitoes per cubic foot of air. Forrealz. There are more mosquitoes than I have ever seen before. All of us are going crazy slapping ourselves all over to get them off our face, our arm, our neck, and all of a sudden Donaldo decides to jump in the river and go swimming. Because the mosquitoes aren’t letting up and we don’t know how long we’ll be waiting, everyone gradually overcomes their fears of piranhas and jumps in the river and we all have this moment like, whoa we are swimming in the Amazon! And our boat driver has abandoned us and we don’t have any gasoline but it’s all good because we are swimming in the Amazon River. But then one of my friends finds a leech on her hand and we all scramble out of the water and back on the boat and get dressed, soaking our clothes and slapping away the mosquitoes again.

It starts getting windy and rainy like it’s about to start pouring but we see a guy on a canoe passing us so we say, help, help! and he comes over and ties his canoe to our boat. So of course we think he’s tied up his canoe because he’s going to help us out. And then a really long canoe with at least ten men in it pulls up and ties up on the other side of the boat and we are surrounded. At this point we are under the impression that they are rescuing us by towing us to their village, so we are all laughing and joking around and passing around lollipops and cookies and singing for them.

A few minutes later we arrive at the village and see hundreds of people rushing down toward the riverbank to greet us. But this is where we kind of realize that the guys weren’t exactly rescuing us. It was more that they had gotten upset about something and didn’t really want us to be at the village or on their part of the river. So Donaldo talks very briefly with the village leader and tells us that we are going to go to someone’s house to wait for a little while. So all ten of us gringas, watched very closely by everyone in the village, go over to this random house and go up to the second floor to await our fate.

Although the house has an open front on the second floor, I can’t really see what’s happening so I have to rely on what I hear to know what’s going on. And unfortunately I hear people yelling, which is definitely not a good sign. These community discussions go on for a while and we are all waiting quietly, hoping that Sonia, the academic director who was on a different boat that already arrived in 2 de Mayo, will somehow find out that we are here being held hostage by a very angry community. I’m still not exactly sure how Sonia found out, I think she sent out a search boat to look for us and the captain saw our boat, but she shows up all of a sudden and Donaldo goes down to meet her and talk to the community and explain who we are and what we are doing in their community.

Again, we are still stuck in the house and can’t really figure out what’s going on. It appears that people are making a lot of speeches and are maybe less angry but it’s hard to be sure. Finally, maybe an hour and a half after we arrived in the community, Sonia and Donaldo come back to the house where we are waiting and Sonia is super relieved to see all of us since she had no idea where we were for the last five hours. We debrief about what happened: apparently the Cocama communities are very distrustful of gringos because an Argentinian petroleum company called PlusPetro has been contaminating the river with heavy metals for over ten years. This is really bad for the community because the river is their only water source and their main food source. There was an agreement signed a few years ago between all the 54 communities that they wouldn’t let in any tourists, and we were only able to visit because the president was cool with us being students who could potentially help them get international support for their campaign against the oil company. So where this all went wrong was that the president informed all the communities in the area that we would be coming but somehow forgot to mention it to the one village where we ended up. They detained our boat because they didn’t know why we were there and were suspicious that as gringos, we might be connected with the oil company. They were upset after seeing the other boats from our group pass by earlier so when they saw us they thought, finally we can do something about this.

After hearing an explanation of the situation from Sonia, we understand that the community is not actually mad at us but mad at the president of the Cocama communities because he didn’t follow the rules about bringing in tourists and didn’t inform them when and why we would be passing by their village to get to 2 de Mayo. We wait in the house with Sonia and Donaldo while the community discusses the issue with the president. At this point it’s about 6pm and starting to get dark. We are all calm and relatively relaxed because we now know that we are safe with both of the program directors but we start to get worried when we start doing mental calculations about how long it is going to take to get back to Iquitos. And at this point it is painfully obvious that we are going to be taking the boat back in the dark. And the boat has no lights on it. Hmmm. Not good.

The discussion between the president and the community finally winds down and Sonia asks the boat we arrived in to go back to 2 de Mayo (which turns out to be only ten minutes away!), pick up the other half of the group, and come back to the community where we are waiting so we can all go back to Nauta together. It sounds simple enough but we ended up waiting about two hours more because all the people from my program who were in 2 de Mayo were really confused about what to do. Apparently the boat captains weren’t helping matters because they were saying weird things, like telling them that “someone” said they needed to leave right now and that my group that had been detained was already back in Nauta. Not true. So we are waiting, waiting, waiting, getting progressively hungrier because we still haven’t eaten lunch, let alone dinner. Finally Sonia calls 2 de Mayo on the community phone to tell the rest of the group where we all are and that it’s OK to leave and come meet us so we can all leave together safely.

They finally leave 2 de Mayo but don’t arrive in the community where we are waiting without some mishaps. Since it’s super dark they end up driving around in circles for a while before they even find the community where we are. Plus one of the boat motors dies so the other boat has to tow it until they reach the community and have a chance to fix it. Motor problems seemed to be a common theme that day. So when they arrive we are FINALLY all reunited after 12 hours and we all pile into the third boat and set off to go back to Nauta together. The problem is that two of the boats have searchlights but ours doesn’t. So during the five-hour trip downriver back to Nauta, we all stay close together so my boat captain can see well enough to avoid stuff that’s floating in the river that might damage the motor.

We arrive at Nauta around 2:30am and miraculously, our bus is still there waiting. We take the bus back to Iquitos and arrive at the hotel around 5am. We are all ravenous because we haven’t eaten for so long but at this point the biggest priority for everyone is sleep. Both of my roommates want to take showers before they go to sleep because we are all covered in sweat and bug spray and river water, but I am so tired that I crash with the lights still on. In the morning I woke up around 10:30am, showered, and went with my friend Maggie to a tourist restaurant called Yellow Rose of Texas to eat the most delicious banana pancakes of my life. Fin.

The Past Few Weeks In Pastries

Since returning from the short study tour, the weeks have gone by in a blur of class, reading, adventuring, and, most notably, pastries.

February 19 marked my first foray into the Brønshøj Torv bakery, conveniently located just two bus stops away, just far enough so that walking there becomes an intentional activity.

This was a tarte, the shell covered in chocolate, the top with almonds and a glaze. Needless to say, it was delicious.

The next documented pastry occurred on February 24th, and was actually one of a pair, as 7/11 has a buy-two-croissants-for-20-kr deal, which was too good to pass up, especially when said croissants are chocolate.
And so it came to pass that I had a chocolate croissant for dessert not only after lunch, but after dinner as well. Thank you, America, for providing quality French pastry in Denmark.

There were at least three pastries between the croissants and the upcoming cinnamon swirl from St. Peter's bakery, centrally located near DIS. I do not want to let them go without recognition, as they were all delicious; however, the pastry that involved almond paste and both vanilla and chocolate icing was my favorite. Not to mention the pastries and coffee we were served when my developmental neuropsychology class visited a school for children with developmental and learning disabilities.
But back to the cinnamon swirl.
Unlike any other cinnamon swirl I have ever had. This was simultaneously bready, gooey, sweet, and cinnamony...
Behind it, physically, and in quality and taste (but not caffeine content) is the half-cup of coffee dispensed by a machine in various locations around DIS. Many a 5 kroner have met their demise in this machine. Especially because it serves hot chocolate too.

Finally, yesterday's culinary delight consisted of the second pastry from the Brønshøj Torv bakery that I can only describe as the flaky version of a doughnut. One filled with raspberry jam.

And so I have found that one of the best ways of experiencing a place is to eat one's way through it.

A day in the life

Given that none of us has posted for a while, seems like everyone has been pretty busy! I have definitely found that my day fills up quickly but I am really enjoying the daily pace of life in Cusco. Since I've been here for over two weeks now, I feel much more settled in and I thought it might be interesting to write about a typical day. So here goes: 

7:30am Wake up, shower, etc. Recently learned that the trick to getting hot water is to turn the knob about half a centimeter instead of turning the knob all the way. My shower experience has been greatly improved. 

8:00am Breakfast. It's kind of strange getting served by my host mom (I keep asking her if I can help, to no avail) and not having any idea what I am going to eat until it appears in front of me. But I am loving Peruvian breakfast food, I think it might be my favorite meal. One of my favorite breakfast foods here is pan de hauro with cheese or strawberry jam and butter inside. Pan de hauro is kind of like thick pita but with a harder outside and a really soft inside. And the cheese here is unlike anything I've had in the US--picture salty, spongy white cheese that holds its shape really well when you slice it. I didn't really like it at first but it's growing on me. But I still really miss normal cheddar, apparently it doesn't really exist in Peru. My other breakfast favorite is granola, but this stuff is nothing like the Trader Joe's granola that I grew up on. Peruvian granola is a bunch of different types of grains all puffed up--wheat, quinoa, some other special Peruvian grain, etc. So it's not very crunchy but it is delicious and filling and mixes really well with yogurt. My host mom serves it with lúcuma yogurt. The yogurt here is runny and more drinkable than spoonable, like the texture of thin kefir. Lúcuma is an orange fruit that is special to Peru that kind of tastes like...gingerbread. Sounds weird but it's good. Wow who knew I could write so much about breakfast?

8:40am Huff and puff to the top of the hill to meet my friends Tyler and Maggie and walk to school. My house is at the bottom of a very steep street, so steep that the fourth floor of my building is about level with the top of the hill. The crazy high altitude here really does make a difference when you are taking part in any physical activity, aka even walking up a few flights of stairs makes you get out of breath during the first week. It's a very foreign feeling for someone who has spent most of their life in the low-elevation states of Illinois and Minnesota.

9:00am Quechua class! This is only a two week class but I wish we had more time because I am loving Quechua! It is so interesting to have the experience of seeing a language for the first time. I started taking Spanish in 6th grade so I kind of forgot what that completely new feeling is like. It is so cool to get to the point where you know enough about the language to start recognizing patterns and can actually understand what is going on. It's not an easy language, especially because the sounds and the structure are so different from English and Spanish, but I am really enjoying the challenge. Here’s a little Quechua fun fact: Machu Picchu means “Old Mountain” (machu means old, picchu means mountain) and Wayna Picchu means “Young Mountain” (wayna means young, or describes a young man).

10:30am Half hour break for coffee/tea/socializing. During orientation we visited a ceramics studio and got to decorate our own clay mugs, which we now use whenever we want hot drinks at school. This is a good place in this blog entry to note that coffee is kind of weird in Peru. Either it's instant coffee granules or it's "cafe natural," which is extremely concentrated coffee that you dilute with hot water until it is to your liking. Also, people are really into hot drinks here. Which is cool with me because I have always enjoyed coffee and tea and hot chocolate more than soda. But here there is a whole philosophy around hot drinks: everyone is always worried about catching a cold. Also, my friend Maggie's host mom says that if you eat certain foods (like avocado, for example), you have to drink something hot so you don't get sick. Interesting. 

12:00pm Done with morning class. We have hang out time to use the internet at the school or run errands like dropping off laundry, printing out articles near the university, buying notebooks, etc. 

1:00pm Walk home to eat lunch. Usually it’s just me and my host mom but sometimes my host dad or sister or brother comes home from work to eat lunch. This is by far the biggest meal of the day, which has taken some getting used to. Lunch starts out with a soup, at my house anything from ramen noodles to quinoa soup with potatoes and zapallo (a large vegetable that's kind of like a cross between butternut squash and punpkin) to choclo (Peruvian corn on the cob). Choclo is very very different from American sweet corn--the cob is about the same size but it's a lot more starchy and there are about 8 rows of kernels that range in size from a pinky fingernail to a thumb fingernail. It's served with the same salty cheese from breakfast so you have to carefully plan the ratio of bites of cheese to bites of choclo so you don't end up with too much choclo left over at the end. Then after that is the segundo, which is the main course. My host mom gave me huge portions at first and I had to explain to her that it was way more than I could eat. Generally it is something potato or meat with a sauce and some rice on the side. But my favorite lunch so far was yesterday's lunch: a slice of cheese inserted between two slices of something like sweet potato (can't remember the name), then battered and fried and served with rice and a very simple cucumber and tomato salad. Yum! Then, only after you are done eating the main course, can you have a drink. Apparently this is a very important part of Andean culture. Usually I drink water but my host family is way into the refrescos. Then I have a piece of fruit or some jello or some mazamorra, which is like a soupy jello texture of hot ground purple corn mixed with sugar and cinnamon.

2:40pm Make the epic journey back to the top of the hill to walk back to school. At first this huge 3 hour break in the middle of the day seemed a bit excessive, but now I really like it. Lunch isn't at all rushed like it is in the US, and you have a chance to take a mental break from class, talk with friends and your host family, enjoy being outside, use the internet, etc. 

3:00pm Seminar with a visiting lecturer. The lectures so far have been about topics ranging from Andean Cosmovision to Peruvian gastronomy and the intersection between traditional Pervian ingredients and Spanish cuisine. Because we are in wettest month of the rainy season (aka summer but it's not actually that warm), usually it rains during our afternoon class time. One day there was a huge hail storm and another day it rained so hard that the roof of the school was leaking. The school is on the fourth floor of a mixed residential/office building and we usually have a really good view of the storm. And of course we also have a really good view of the mountains surrounding Cusco--the valley is so beautiful. Sometimes I kind of forget where I am and then I look out the window and there are the Andes. Sweet!

4:45pm Another hot drink break. Love it!

5:30pm/6pm The seminar ends at some point between 5:30 and 6pm and we are free for the rest of the day. Sometimes we go into the centro to run errands or get food or go shopping but most of the time we go to this amazing internet cafe called Don Pancho y Don Esteban that's less than 5 minutes away from the school. Picture an awesome cafe that so impresses you with its cheap croissants and alfajores, good music, and comfy chairs that you almost forget you went there in the first place to use the internet. 

7/7:30/8pmish Go home for dinner. Dinner in Peru is something light, definitely not the biggest meal of the day like it is in the US. Sometimes my mom makes a little omelette with cheese and oregano served over rice, sometimes she serves leftovers from lunch, and sometimes she gives me just dessert, like a piece of apple pie from a nearby bakery. Then of course we drink tea or decaf coffee after we are done eating. Usually I end up chatting with my host parents or one of my host siblings about Quechua class or Peruvian culture or funny family stories for a while before I start homework.

9:00pm Read for tomorrow’s afternoon seminar and do Quechua homework. Try to connect to the ethernet in my room and rejoice when it works, about 2 times out of 3. Discover that Hulu really doesn’t work outside the US and fail to figure out how to trick the internet into thinking I’m not actually in Peru.

11:30pm Cozy up beneath 2 alpaca blankets and a comforter while wearing sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt. Houses here don’t have heat and even in the summer it gets pretty chilly at night. But still not nearly as chilly as the Midwest at this time of yearJ

This is the last “normal” week for a while because on Monday we are leaving for a two and a half week trip to Puno (Lake Titicaca!), Colca Canyon (homestay with a Quechua-dominant family), and Arequipa! Then we are back in Cusco for about 3 weeks of normal classes and the homestay before leaving for a 5 day trip to Manu, the Amazonian region of Peru. I love being in Cusco but I’m really excited to get to see other parts of the country!

In other news: Miracle of miracles, I got mail on Valentine’s Day! Thanks for the card, Grandmommy and Granddaddy! I can’t believe it arrived in just one week!

Also, I have been incredibly surprised by how cheap everything is here! No entry fee for discotecas; taxis cost 3 soles, about $1, but we split the cost between at least 4 people; international calling card with 45 minutes of call time costs less than $2; a cell phone costs $20 and comes with 20 free minutes of calls and 20 free texts; a croissant at the amazing internet café costs about 15 cents, etc. etc. This also means that souvenirs are very reasonably priced so let me know if you have any requests!

Tupananchiskama (Quechua for “see you when I see you”),

Maggie
P.S. As promised: pictures from Machu Picchu!

Copenhagen: Not On The Mainland

Well, it turns out that the island Copenhagen is on is actually one of the most eastern islands that Denmark still has control of. The past few days were spent on a Short Study Tour of Western Denmark, which was both educational and fun (and on the mainland - Jutland). As part of the public health program, we visited a general practitioner, a regional administrator of the health care system, as well as an NGO that does work with sexual education. It was all very informative.

Perhaps more worthy of note was the town of Odense, located on the island between Copenhagen and Jutland, and the town where Hans Christian Anderson was born.

Parts of the town have been preserved since his era, and it was all very quaint and picturesque, and while I enjoyed walking around and visiting a museum with a photography exhibit on soccer in Africa, the best part was (of course) the baked goods. 

We consumed a pear tarte-like cake, which was (of course) delicious. What distinguished this tarte-like cake from other tartes and/or cakes I have had was the hint of almond. This has been a theme in other pastries I have experienced, which I wholeheartedly approve of.

We also visited Koldinghus, which is a castle that was built in 1268, burned down in 1808, and rebuilt in 1890. 

 The coolest thing about this castle is that instead of attempting to replicate what was once there, the new part of the castle compliments what remained after the fire. It was beautiful in a way that I never would have imagined possible.

The primary example of this was in the old chapel. Most of the original structure was still standing, but the lighting was clearly a new addition.

The castle is also a museum, and there was an excellent exhibit on the Beatles when we visited.

Koldinghus, as a very old castle, is located in a very old town of Kolding. As viewed from the window of the castle, on a typical day in Denmark.

And so, I found out that Copenhagen is, in fact, not a part of Western Denmark. And upon returning, I experienced the strange feeling that I was coming home to a city.