Teen flicks, Coffee, and a Dip in the Pool

There is a little known phenomenon in South America regarding the need to watch teen flicks portraying stereotypical, yet fictionalized high school life in America. Apparently this most often occurs on long bus rides..or so I was led to believe on my trip from Lima to Jaen. Who knew there was such a desire to watch such films at "The Hot Girl" and "John Tucker Must Die" on overnight bus rides through Peru?

So...here we are in Jaen, the not-so-small-but-not-entirely-big town I find myself in here in this Andean country. The town is nice; typical by South American standards consisting of a plaza, stray dogs, and enough motorcycles (or such things) to overwhelm even a Sturgis veteran. Our home is the Hotel Prim's, a nice establishment equipped with sparten rooms, a nice restaurant, and a phallic shaped swimming pool. I wish the latter was a joke (or an unfortunate accident) but I doubt either is the case. I kid you not, it is unmistakable...very unmistakable. Sorry for being so crass, Mom.

Ok, right now we just finished watching the Miss Universe contest (go Japan!). Luke is reading and watching CSI, and Niels is probably conquering Lichtenstein on his midieval computer simulation game. As I sit on the floor of our room and survey my surroundings I am overwhelmed with visions of what it must have looked like to live in 1973. Burnt orange carpet, brown velvet-ish bedspreads patterned with some sort of flowery/yucca design, and a painting of a series of waterfalls that illuminates (or at least it did at one time) when plugged into the wall. Heaven. I am going to bottle this place up and bring it back to Berkeley with me.

Here in Jaen we have been relatively busy. In addition to continuing to refine our research, we have met with a couple of coffee cooperatives to talk about there operations and their use of energy in various aspects of the production process. Personally, these discussions have been extremely interesting. Prior to arriving in Peru my knowledge of coffee was limited to ordering a large cup each morning as I dragged my exhausted ass into work or class. As long as it was hot and strong I was good to go. But now I am seeing it from its inception; from growth through distribution. Interestingly, some of the coffee that you may be drinking right now as you read this blog instead of working may have come through some of the cooperatives we are meeting with here in Jaen. Even more exciting, tomorrow we are heading into the fields to get a better look at the actual operations that are in place. We will head north through Chirinos and then on to San Ignacio where we will meet with coffee farmers and more cooperatives.


Alright, I am not done with the swimming pool. The fun doesn't stop with its very masculine design. A little background: we have hired a driver in order to traverse the coffee growing regions of northern Peru. He will take us from town to town and probably act somewhat as a guide. Oh, and hopefully he will vouch for us if we are mistaken for miners...more on that some other time. So, our driver, Antonio, swung by Hotel Prim's today to introduce himself and discuss the details of our expedition. Luke, Niels, and I were sitting outside by the pool discussing our afternoon plans when he arrived. The table at which we were sitting was adjacent to the "beans" portion of the previously described pool. Since Luke is our native Latino (or so he speaks like it), Antonio walked towards him first to kick off the introductions. As he rounded the table something tragic happened, causing Antonio to (ungracefully) slip on a "bean" and fall into the pool. Fast acting Luke, still clutching Antonio's hand from the introductory shake, was able to quickly pull our driver from the pool, and thereby saving his cell phone keeping the upper portion of his clothing relatively dry. Thus, for the next fifteen or so minutes our driver, the man we will be trusting to take us through rural Peru and whom I still haven't officially met, stood sopping wet talking to Luke about our plans for the next few weeks. Hell, after a stunt like that, I will trust Antonio to take me to the end of the world...which may be where we are going.

Stay tuned!

Well...We Made It to Cajamarca

Sort of. We made it to the Cajamarca booth at a tourism exposition today. As you can see by the photos we were able to do the entire country of Peru in about forty-five minutes, even Cajamarca, which is where we will be completing our research. The highlight for me was being summoned to eat some sort of powdery substance fed to me by an Andean man. Luckily for me I was able to address the entire convention over the PA system while doing so. It sure does pay to be tall and blond in South America!


Oh, and yes, that is a real monkey hanging out with Luke. It is amazing that it knows how to wave.

Peruvian Cuisine...Oh the Humanity!

I just got back from the supermarket. Plaza Vea. There we bought four bottles of wine, some fruit, a bit of bread, a liter and a half of Inca Cola, five clipboards, and a couple of notebooks. Essentials. Tonight is our last night in Lima. Tomorrow we take an overnight bus about seventeen hours north to the region of Cajamarca, specifically the town of Jaen. Look it up on a map; it's small. So, you may be asking, what have I been up to over the past week...from outriding death on a mountain bike until now? Well, I have eaten well. Seriously.

I arrived into Lima on Monday morning where I was picked up by Carlos, our favorite Limean taxi driver. Essentially (as should not be suprising to many of you who know my travel companion Luke Dunnington), we have a personal cab company, owned by Carlos, whom we call upon for everything. Carlos is a spectacular friend to have in Lima. He gets us where we need to go, on time, and in comfort. Being picked up by Carlos was a great way to arrive in in this Peruvian port city.
Upon arrival, Carlos drove me to the workshop of Gaston Acurio. Gaston, for those of you who, like me, does not consider themselves a "foodie", is the face of Peruvian cuisine. It is his (and his organization's) mission to introduce the world to the taste and diversity of Peruvian food. Thanks to one of our Berkeley classmates, Luke, Kurt Huffman, Javier Linares, and myself were able to sit down with Gaston's right-hand man for three hours and talk about food, the organization's mission, and, most importantly, where we should spend every meal for the entire week. Armed with a list of Lima's best restaurants and an appetite, we set off for a week-long culinary tour of Peru's capital city.

I am not going to detail the entire week...that's a lot of meals. Let's just say I have been spoiled. I have never in my life had such incredible food at such remarkable restaurants. In the end we hit a half-dozen of the most highly respected restaurants in town. I won't describe every one of them; however, there are some highlights of the week that must be discussed.

1.) La Mar - This is Gaston's take on the traditional cevecheria. Ceviche, which many of you may not be familiar with is traditionally a dish of fresh (read: raw) fish, lime juice, and some onions, choclo, or other raw vegetables. There are a million different variations on ceviche, but I will just give you the basics. La Mar is Gaston's big international push right now. Those of us lucky enough to live in the Bay Area will be treated to this spectacular restaurant in the near future. While at La Mar Kurt and Luke put the waiters through their paces, asking about each dish, the ingredients, and how it was prepared. Concurrently we sucked down a few pisco sours and had a general great time.


2.) Chez Wong - Picture prohibition. Perhaps you want to dance, maybe enjoy some jazz piano, and drink a whiskey. Where would you go? A speakeasy. A soft knock at an unmarked door, the right password, and voila...booze. Fast forward about seventy years. Let's say you want some of the best ceviche in Peru. You head to an unmarked door in a non-descript working-class neighborhood in Lima. Once there, you motion to the guy at the door to allow you access to a simply decorated room with a few tables, a refrigerator, a large gas burner, and an aging Asian man cutting up fish. This is Javier Wong's restaurant. A menu-less establishment that has been named one of the top restaurants in Lima. This was by far my favorite restaurant. Basically, eating at Chez Wong's was like sitting in a person's kitchen...however, this person is a renowned Peruvian chef. While the clandestine aspect of the restaurant was engaging, it was the fresh ceviche that really made the experience.


3.) Pisco Sours - By far the most dangerous drinks ever created. Thus, why would we NOT make up a rating system for them? From strength and consistency, to foam and deadliness, we spent a lot of time ranking the best pisco sours from across Lima. Ask us about which are the don't miss spots...it's a bit hazy, but we may remember where they are.

Ok, now, I know what some of you are thinking: aren't you supposed to be working down in Peru? Well, amazingly, we did that as well. In between phenomenal meals, we used this week to meet with different development organizations, buy maps, and prepare our general research plan. Luke, Niels, and myself are now ready to spend the next few weeks in one of Peru's most northern provinces looking at sustainable financing and productive use of solar power and micro-hydro systems. We will be spending a significant amount of time in communities that rely on these alternative sources for all of their energy needs. Amazingly, I actually think we are going to do some good work once we get up to our destination.

So now it is time to enjoy my last night in our spacious apartment in Lima. For the next two weeks I expect simple and, well, challenging accomodations. And in terms of food: cheese, bread, and probably a load of lomo saltado. I will try and update from "out there" but no guarantees. Buen Provecho!

I Love Gravity. It´s Great.

Apparently I survived the "World´s Most Dangerous Road" (WMDR), or so says the shirt that I was given at the end of a sixty-six kilometer bike ride that I took today. I should preface this story by noting that since I am currently writing this entry then I obviously made it through the experience unscathed. Thus, Mom, if you are reading this, I AM OK. Alright, now that we have that out of the way, the story:

Yesterday I was bored. I returned to La Paz from the salt flats a day or two before I had initially planned, so I had some extra time on my hands. While walking the streets taking dozens more pictures, I decided that I wanted to spend my final day in Bolivia, Sunday, doing something active and fun. So I popped my head into Gravity Assisted Mounting Biking, which is the preeiminent company that takes riders along the WMDR, which is a trip from La Paz to Coroico along a road that, well, to say the least, is a bit hairy.

At about twenty or so feet wide, about thirty kilometers of the road hugs the Bolivian mountainside. The exposed side of the road, at times, is a sheer cliff with a drop off of up to 1,000 meters...or about 3,300 feet for those of you who are counting. Essentially, if you fall you aren´t going to bounce for awhile. But not to fear. To be honest, I didn´t find it do be too scary. Have there been casulties? Well, judging by the number of crosses along the roadside, yes. Heck, one of our group members had to have stitches after a nasty fall. However, our guides and gear were great...and I rode at about 3 mph. Weirdly, our main guide, Travis, was from Colorado. He spends half the year running a bike company in Bolivia, and the other half as the head liftie at Telluride. Additionally, he is a fellow "One Year Alum" of my first college, Western State College of Colorado. This, coupled with the Berkeley PhD student I randomly met on a La Paz street yesterday reminded me how small the world really is.


So, the exciting part of the ride wasn´t actually taming the road, but rather the tremendous beauty of the ride and the group of people I shared it with. Over sixty-six kilometers, we dropped nearly 12,000 feet in altitude, from 15,400 to 3,600 feet. Such a change in altitude alowed us to travel from the towering Andes, through the cloud forest, and into the more tropical parts of Bolivia. That, my friends, is defnintely gravity assisted bike riding. As you can see from the pictures, dressing in layers was key. I am glad I didn´t show that last picture...you know, the naked one. Kidding. Gross.

My group consisted of some Brits, Aussies, Yankees, and a lone Kiwi, Olivia. Olivia was great to talk to because not only did she spend three days in the salt flats with five Israelis trying to understand Hebrew as well, but she also spent two months volunteering (randomly) in the same area in Peru, Cajamarca, where our UNIDO team will be working in over the next few weeks.


Sadly, this is my last entry from Bolivia, as I leave in about twelve hours for Peru. There I will meet up with Luke Dunnington and the infamous Kurt Huffman, both fellow Haasies. For those of you who do not know these people let me just give a brief background. Hell, they don´t need a background. Let me just say that both of them have been in Peru for a week, which about as much time needed for them to single-handedly transform the country. I may be returning to a Peru completely different than the one I left just one week ago.

I will miss Bolivia. While it is tremendously chaotic and at times frustrating, it is also unbelievably beautiful and flavorful. It was the country that I wanted to visit most in South America and I am glad that I had the opportunity to do so. More so than any other country I have visited, the juxtaposition between the new and old is readily apparent. This was illustrated best yesterday while I wandered a traditional market along the steep streets of La Paz. Among the hundreds of indigenous Bolivians selling fruits, vegetables, meats, and other staples, was one woman, brightly dressed in traditional clothing, chatting on a cell phone. That is really demonstrative of the country as a whole.


Alright, I am done. The mid-1980´s American love songs on here at the internet cafe are starting to get to me. Oh, who am I kidding, I love Bruce Hornsby. On to Peru!

Smuggling Llamas to the States

They´re cute...they really are. And I think one would make a great addition to my life in Berkeley. So, if anyone knows of a good way to smuggle a llama back stateside, let me know.

So why do I bring this up? Well, I just spent the last five days in the middle of nowhere...literally...where all that existed were llamas and late model Toyota Land Cruisers. During those five days I had a lot of time to think about how I was going to describe a place that is arguably the most beautiful location I have ever been. Additionally, I tried to figure out how to describe my travel companions, whom I was hardly able to converse with. Well, the only thing I came up with during those few days was the llama thing. Go figure. Anyhow, I am going to try to do my best to describe Bolivia, Salar de Uyuni, the end of the earth, and the transcendent powers of cards and wine in the next few paragraphs. Here goes...

I left La Paz Monday night for bone-rattling trip to the distant village of Uyuni. Uyuni is known for pretty much one thing: salt. It is the jumping off point for tours of the Salar de Uyuni, which is an expansive (and by expansive I mean "can´t see the other side" expansive) salt flat. The salt flat is fascinating for a couple of reasons. First, at times when you are driving you can only see two things: the blindingly white ground and the vividly blue sky. That´s it. Very surreal. Second: in such a Dali-esque landscape, one has the ability to create photos that take advantage of the lack of depth perception. For example, we took photos that made us look like we were emerging from a bottle, falling off of a can of Pringles, or kissing a giant (or lilliputian person, depending on the way you think). Now, I don´t have any of those photos because they are on my friend Maya´s camera, but here is an example of what I mean.


Now, who were my partners in crime on this adventure? That would be my Bolivian guide, his wife the cook, and five post-army Israelis. Of those five Israelis, only one, Maya, actually spoke fluent English. Of all the trips I have taken, and of all the people I have met, this was probably one of the more random groups I have ever been paired with. It was difficult, and at times frustrating. However, as I will detail later, I wouldn´t have had it any other way.

So here is the set-up: three days crossing through the otherworldly terrain of southwestern Bolivia in a psychotically-driven Land Cruiser that was oftentimes only started by popping the clutch, while listening to five chain-smoking Israelis debate politics, evolution, theology, morality, and American pop culture (all in Hebrew, remember), to the ambient sound of Israeli music being blasted through small, treblely-gifted speakers. All the while, the remarkably beautiful landscape passed by the window of our vehicle. This is my life.

One more things should be noted. The altitude of this region is about 12,000 to 16,000 feet. While those of us from Colorado take pride in the fact that we live at a mile high and play even higher, our lives don´t even compare to this.

The terrian was both diverse and mesmorizing. From the previously described salt flats, to the vividly colored lagoons, the trek was a constant moving picture of beauty. Along the way we were treated to awe-inspiring views of the Andes, the odd-beauty of alpine deserts, the occasional wild-llama, steaming natural springs, and sub-freezing temperatures. At the furthest point of the trip, we found ourselves at the very corner of Bolivia; the point where it touches both Chile and Argentina. Although the temperature was brutally cold, the scenery was unbelievable. While the entire trip was completed far from civilization, it was at that moment that I really felt like I was at the end of the earth. I took nearly 300 photos with my new camera, which I feel really capture the dynamic and ever-changing landscape of the region. I can´t wait to share them with each of you.

So how did I communicate with my compatriots. Well, Spanish and broken English were helpful, as were Maya´s translations. However, the most productive way was through wine and the card game, "Shithead". Most of you know that my self-diagnosed ADD pretty much precludes me from participating in card games, but for some reason I love Shithead. For those of you who don´t know if it, it is essentially the common game that travelers worldwide know and love. I learned it in Asia, played it in Europe, and perfected it in South America. For some reason, it is almost a universal language of its own.

So, after three days tightly packed in our Toyota, and two nights sharing laughs over cards, it was time to leave my new found friends. As we came to the drop-off spot, the point where I was to depart my group to join another returning to Uyuni, one final song came over the speakers. Of the literally thousands of Hebrew songs on the iPod, that song, a Counting Crows Song, for some reason came on. For those of you who know me well, you know that A) the Counting Crows are my favorite band, especially while traveling (I have probably listened to August and Everything After hundreds of times while traveling), B) I am a huge believer in both serendipìty and "the vibe", so I think you can see the symbolism here. While at many times I questioned why I had been paired with this group on such a long and gruling trip, I grew to greatly enjoy their company and companionship, and I missed them greatly when we finally parted ways.

So that´s it. Sure, I could tell many more stories, from being reintroduced to the beauty of an Andean market, to the desire of every barber in La Paz to shave my beard, but I will save those for later.

I hope everyone is doing well. Until next time! Sababa!




P.S. - In a hazy, most likely sleep-deprived, bumpy road-induced stupor, I came up with a comedy show that I would like to introduce to South America. The name of the game: "Not in South America!" Essentially, the host shows various instances where non-South Americans try and navigate the cultural and logistical aspects of the continent. At the end of each segment, the studio audience, which is made up of indigenous people from the Andes, samba dancers from Brazil, the social elite of Argentina, and Bolivian President Evo Morales, exchange laughs, high fives, and yell out "Not in South America!" For example, "Oh, so you want a bus that leaves on time and doesn´t break down? Not in South America!" Or, perhaps, "You don´t want to be hassled on the streets by sock-peddling street vendors? Not in South America!" I think you get the idea.

Slightly Dizzy Right Now...

I must admit, I am a little lightheaded right now. I am not sure if it is a result of the altitude of La Paz (nearly 12,000 feet), or my whirlwind finals week that ended with a full twenty-four hours of travel to Bolivia, but to say I am a bit dizzy would be an understatement. Regardless, I am here. And, of course, I love it.

I must admit, I missed South America. I woke up this morning to the cacophony of hundreds of honking horns and hawkers yelling from doors of buses, and the smell of women cooking meals on the street below my quaint hotel room. When I opened the curtains of my room I was greeted with the South America I remember: dilapidated buildings and pure chaos. Now, I don´t mean that negatively at all. It was actually almost comforting and brought back memories from my time in the region a few years back.

La Paz, at least the little I have seen of it, is beautiful. I arrived last night around midnight. I found a cab and headed into the city. My first view of La Paz came from the top El Alto, which is the ridgeline above the city. As we entered the valley, the cab drive pulled to the side of the road to let me have a look at the city lights as the spread before me along the sides of the valley and as far as I could see below. It was a tremendous way to be introduced to La Paz. In the daylight I was greeted with a city settled in a valley of steep inclines consisting of periously perched buildings. In the distance, at the end of the valley, is Mt. Illamani, which towers over this already altitude-blessed city. It really makes for a spectacular setting.

Unfortunately my time here is shortlived. I will be leaving on an overnight bus this evening to Uyuni. There I will find a guide to take me into the salt flats for three or four days. From there I will return to La Paz prior to heading to Peru for our UNIDO research project.

Alright, this update has been long enough...I am going to go get myself into trouble so I can have some good stories to share next time I post an update. That and some oxygen.

Day One: Me at my Desk in Berkeley

I am going to rack up a few frequent flyer miles this summer. For the next 14.5 weeks I will be spending time in Bolivia, Peru, Singapore, and other random nations. So, for those of you whom I haven't talked to in awhile, and those of you who I feel like I have seen every waking hour for the past few months, welcome to the first installment of my "Summer of Yes" blog. This blog will be used to update my friends and family of my whereabouts as I travel through and work in South America and Southeast Asia this summer. If feel that it is easier to maintain this blog than call each of you at four in the morning while I am bored at work. Additionally, each of you can decide when you want to take an hour out of your day to read my random, occasionally incoherent travel ramblings.

So the blog...I would like to think of this as analogous to the taste test that one can get at the supermarket on Saturday mornings. The store is willing to give you a chunk of fried chicken on a toothpick in hopes that you will be interested in purchasing a box of that frozen crap to take home. In a sense, I am hoping that this "chicken" of a blog will at least be more appealing to each of you than the alternative, which is real, live, actual work. We'll see if it works. So join me on my adventure through rural South America and cosmopolitan Singapore. And...if you are really lucky, I may allow you to help me pick out my business casual clothing for work!

Five Things I Hope Happen:
1.) Capture some amazing photos of things...whatever those things may be
2.) Have some fabulous "Kurt Huffman Productions"-ready suits made in Singapore
3.) Tap into the Singapore expat community and meet interesting travel buddies
4.) Learn a little bit about working internationally for a multinational company in a multicultural city with nationals from many countries...does that make sense?
5.) Complete my long awaited research project on the similarities and differences between office parks, strip malls, and cubicles between the United States and Asia.

Five Things I Hope Don't Happen
1.) Get caned in Singapore
2.) Come down with CheGuevaraSimonBolivar'sRevenge in Bolivia...also known as food poisoning
3.) Get caned in Singapore
4.) Get too many paper cuts from administering thousands of surveys in Peru.
5.) Forget to return to Berkeley for my second year...and get caned in Singapore.

In a few hours I will head to SFO for my flight to South America. Along the way I will stop in San Salvador, Lima, and finally into La Paz, Bolivia, tomorrow night. From there I will have an overnight bus ride to Uyuni in order to spend a few days at the salt flats. Alright. Everybody in and buckled up? Let's go!