Peru 2019: Arequipa welcomes our stomachs

New Year's Eve in Arequipa means fireworks. They are set off by anyone and everyone, all over the city,
 beginning a couple of hours before midnight and continuing beyond. It's an impressive – and noisy – spectacle!

Tuesday, Jan. 1, 2019

A new year.

Last night, the whole city was lit up with fireworks. We were all too tired to go out anywhere to celebrate, so we just went out on the balcony … and it was amazing! Non-stop fireworks just everywhere. Mia, especially, was amazed. "I love this!" she exclaimed, eyes wide as the sky continually lit up all around and above us with lights and colours.

Sandra and Coqui's dogs – two gorgeous huskies – were not so thrilled. Bush, whom we met and loved on previous visits, is 14, slowing down in his old age and was pretty much unfazed. Maya is 11 – like our Gidz back home – and much more attention-seeking. The incessant whistle-pop-boom of the New Year's pyrotechnics was really stressing her out.

As for us humans, we popped a bottle of bubbly, hugged and toasted our southern family under a bursting southern sky and were happy to have arrived and for our adventure to begin.

Feliz año, Perú!


•  •  •

Maya, who proved today that her bite is bigger than the neighbour's bark.

Wednesday, Jan. 2, 2019

I have started the year off right by doing yoga first thing every morning. What a feeling to be able to do my yoga practice outside under a clear blue sky in January!

However, waking up to sunshine and balcony yoga would be even nicer if I weren't so sore all the time. When I wake up on days like today I feel 94 instead of 49. Yes, 49! When exactly did that happen?

My hands hurt all the time, but especially in the morning – they're swollen and my finger joints ache – and my lower back is super-sensitive now that I apparently have degenerative disc disease. Today my neck and upper back are stiff as well.

It all makes me worry about the upcoming Inca Trail. Not so much the hike itself – my bad foot, at least, seems to be holding up these days – but the nights in tents and sleeping bags and the mornings after. Not to mention summer in Peru means rainy season in the Andes. I'm counting on the beauty and excitement of it making up for any discomfort.

We spent most of yesterday at home catching up with Sandra and Coqui, going out only for food. In the morning, the adults went to pick up adobo, a beef soup that is typically eaten on New Year's Day. I, being vegetarian, opted instead for soltero de queso, a (lettuce-free) salad of beans, corn and cheese that I like so much I often make it at home. And this was one of the best I have ever eaten.

In the evening we all took a walk to Cayma's commercial strip to buy groceries, but all the stores had closed early for the holiday so we went to a shopping mall food court for dinner. I already dislike food courts and fast food in general, and the only vegetarian-friendly option was Pizza Hut, so I felt a bit grumpy and disappointed, thinking, "I didn't come all the way to Peru to eat Pizza Hut!" But I knew vegetarianism would be a challenge in this country with its delicious, world-class and highly carnivorous cuisine.

The excitement yesterday came in the afternoon between the two meals. Sandra and Coqui decided to take the dogs out front into the enclosed courtyard shared by the houses in their little block so the kids could run and play with their furry friends. No sooner had Maya stepped out than a tiny dog (Shih Tzu, I think) ran out from next door, barking wildly at her. Well, Maya's Husky instincts kicked in and – chomp – she bit the little thing.

I didn't see any of this happen, but I sure heard it. The cries of the small dog were absolutely heartbreaking. And apparently Maya's strong jaws held fast for a good few seconds before Sandra managed to get her to let go.

Anyway, Coqui, who is a family doctor, grabbed some supplies to stop the (considerable) bleeding and disinfect the (impressive) wound. Then off to the vet went Sandra, Coqui, Wolf and the neighbour, who first took time to change clothes and put on makeup while her daughter tied the injured dog's hair up with a pretty pink bow. Priorities!

More vet visits and bills will certainly ensue, but it looks like the little thing will be OK. Coqui, of course, is extremely stressed about the incident. It's not a great way to make an impression on your new neighbours and he worries about what the fallout will be.

Meanwhile, the Huskies are literally in the dog house.

•  •  •


A taxi driver was nice enough to stop so we could get out and take some pictures of this overview of the city.

Arequipa's Plaza de Armas, the central square.

An Arequipa street near the Plaza de Armas.
Thursday, Jan. 3, 2019

This morning my body feels better. My joints ache less, my back is less sore and I did a fuller yoga practice, feeling more freedom and flexibility in my limbs. Shirshasana – head stand, a staple of my practice – has been interesting. On a high balcony with open sky above it gives me serious vertigo – perhaps amplified also by the altitude? The first day I needed to go back to the wall; yesterday and today I got up on my own, but even with the stone floor below me and concrete barriers around, the vastness of height, sky and outdoors would not allow me to feel grounded or safe. I don't know that I'll be attempting shirshasana atop Machu Picchu!

Shavasana (relaxation), however, was a treat. I even moved my mat into the early-morning sun to drink in its warmth. I will sure miss this when we get back to Montreal winter!

Today, Wolf is in Lima taking care of some paperwork and Sandra and Coqui are off at the vet again with the neighbour's dog. Later I'm going to the family travel agency, run by Ludwig, the third of Wolf's brothers, to use his wifi and get caught up on some work I couldn't finish before leaving Montreal.

Yesterday, we shopped. We shopped for books because Mia and I are pouring through what we brought all too quickly. Not that I'm complaining about having too much time to read! And we shopped for souvenirs in the artisanal markets near the Plaza de Armas (central square). Wolf and his extreme bargaining tactics weren't with us, but I managed to get a few soles off everything, at least. And we shopped for food, which was an exercise in frustration for me. I decided I would cook a very simple pasta with cream, basil and lemon juice, but the (huge) grocery didn't have cream and was out of lemons. So after searching and searching, with an aching back and five people following me around I decided on tomato sauce instead – but no canned tomatoes! (Yes, fresh would do, but it was late and I was going for fast and easy.) In the end, Sandra and Coqui – so generous and patient – went elsewhere to find cream and lemons for me, but I was so exhausted and frustrated I was holding back tears by the end of the expedition. By the time we got home and were ready to eat it was 11:30. But they all liked the food!

Mia and I both wonder whether our vegetarianism – going on four years – will last here. She asked if we could buy some tuna yesterday, because when we're out we're mostly limited to French fries (which I generously douse in spicy ají sauce) or pizza. We can't even order salads because it's not recommended for tourists to eat raw lettuce.

Morally I am dedicated to vegetarianism and have recently begun considering going vegan, but Peruvian cuisine beckons, with the smell of anticucho grilling on street corners, menus of delicious, meaty burgers and sandwiches (Peruvians know how to do sandwiches!), pollo a la brasa and, of course, the dish that is most likely to break me: ceviche.

•  •  •
This is what turista feels like.

Friday, Jan. 4, 2019

Turista. That's the general term used to describe the digestive ailments that tend to hit tourists in Latin American countries and it appears that's what we've got. It hit all the adults of the household yesterday afternoon, even Sandra and Coqui. But not, thankfully, Mia or Shane.

For me it started with intermittent, burning abdominal pain – ouf, hang on, there it is again – which increased in intensity and frequency and led to me not wanting to be more than a stone's throw from a bathroom at any point today.

I spent the afternoon at Ludwig's travel agency (Ecotours, if you're ever in Arequipa and looking for adventure) catching up on work, wincing in pain and … I'll spare you more details. I felt a bit better by the time I got back home around 9 p.m., but only because I hadn't eaten anything since brunch so my digestive system was unstimulated. By the time I got back, Wolf was also back from Lima, but he, too, was afflicted to the point he was even shivering with fever.

Coqui gave us all something to stop the abdominal contractions and relieve the pain so we could sleep. This morning the pains are less intense and less frequent. I'm having tisane this morning, not coffee, and I haven't yet tried to eat anything. I hope I will continue to improve through the day and should still be able to head off on the Inca trail tomorrow!

The question is: What hit us? The kids are not sick (thank goodness!), so the common meals can't be the culprit. Not to mention that I haven't eaten many of the foods the others have because I don't eat meat (and haven't cheated!). The only thing we can think of is a bottle of wine we opened two nights ago that tasted off so we didn't drink more than two sips each. Strange that two tiny sips of wine could hit our stomachs that hard, but combined with the altitude, which can affect digestion and has for me in the past, it's possible, I guess. In Wolf's case he was hit right after eating some anticucho (grilled, marinated beef heart) in the Lima airport, so maybe that was the thing that did him in. He has a weak stomach already.


11 p.m.

Today has been a day of cramps, diarrhea, tears and frustration.

Trying to eat breakfast this morning was a mistake. We fly to Cusco in nine hours, and our stomachs are no better. Half an hour after eating a piece of plain, white toast my insides turned to liquid once more.

We're still going – Coqui is pumping us full of medications (he's convinced we caught a parasite) and we have a full day in Cusco before leaving on the actual trek – but we've meanwhile found out two disconcerting facts: 
1. The Inca Trail porters don't, in fact, carry our backpacks, sleeping bags or mattresses, so we will hike for four days with 8 kilos on our backs, which we were not expecting and didn't train for.
2. Most of the bathroom facilities on the trail apparently will consist of a hole in the ground – a daunting thought at the best of digestive times, which these are not. 

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