songs of solitude;

hard to breathe

(date of entry published does not necessarily reflect the date of occurence...seeing as i have not had much internet access in cusco)

sometimes you attempt to prepare yourself so much for a certain event or set thereof that it seems impossible, in foresight, for anything to go wrong. but it seems to me, that it is precisely times such as these for the exact opposite to occur. the course of events in cusco now seem too rediculous to have all happened to one person (or two people...my mom included), but alas, they did.

both my mom and i managed to have eaten something the day before leaving for cusco that gave us both a bacterial infection and a parasite. it didn´t affect us right away, but once landed in cusco, compounded with altitude shock, we found ourselves quite incapacitated. for those unfamiliar, cusco is at an altitude of about 3000m, which, especially if you are tiny like me, hits you like a ton of bricks on your chest.

i spent saturday through tuesday of this week past fading in and out of consciousness as the beautiful scenery seemed to mock me with its glow. i spent three days in the hospital which sadly was necessary, even though it caused us to miss the inca trail hike we had already booked and paid for, as well as ran up a hefty bill of its own (thanks to my stupidity in forgetting health insurance). so some $1400 later, my mom and i found ourselves physically healed but emotionally battered.

we are pretty easy going people who like to believe that everything happens for a reason, and that it is possible to make good of even the seemingly worst situations. and such was ours. admittedly it was hard at the time to see past the week of diarrhea, blinding headache, and constant fight for what never felt like a full breath. but as close to death as i may have felt (and smelt...according to my mom, who thankfully didn´t need to be hospitalized like i did) i was alive. although looking out the window of my hospital room was like watching someone dangle a fistful of candy in front you as you sit, trapped in a glass container, i knew that i would regain my strength and be able to eventually take steps in the lyrically sunlit streets of picturesque Cusco. and when i finally did...when i was finally well enough to leave the hospital that had kept me hostage for days, it was the most wonderful experience i could have imagined.

with only two days left at our disposal, we spent the first enjoying everything that Cusco had to offer; from browsing its many quaint shops, to having our first beer of the trip at one of two irish pubs, i took in all the sights and sounds in several slow, steady meditated breaths. unlike Lima, Cusco is not covered in a haze of smog and disdain but rather skies so clear and blue that you begin to question the truths you thought you knew about the state of things. how can such beauty house any poverty at all? why does so little look so vast and worth much more than wages would have us believe?

but there is poverty in Cusco, just as there was in Lima. it lies hidden - tucked neatly away in the sock drawers of the hills - hills that would beckon the julie andrews in anyone to cast care aside for a day of echoed singing amongst them. like giants, these hills have seen years of humanity; of turmoil changing hue in the valleys that they guard from a mountainous abyss. gazing across Plaza de Armas, i feel as though time were merely a faint notion in architechutre that whispers new tales of old tributes many times over, to each new day of passers by.

if travelling to peru, people will tell you to visit Machu Picchu; a set of historical incan ruins that lies amidst the altitudous highlands, boasting both the skill and savy of the native people. anyone that has visited would tell you to go. and so with just one day left unrobbed by the IV that fed me new life and new breath, we went. words, for me, are never quite suffice to describe the works of he paints the earth, the sky, the natural breadths and hues that leave us gasping out of sheer astonishment. as fascinating as the ruins and the history of the incan people therein was to be found, i found myself all to distracted by the massive green mountainous terrain that encompassed me. after a tour that took us through...up and down...around and around...and up and down on cobbled stones worn with age and knowledge, i found myself with my mother, speechlessly uncovering every inch the area, with the care and wonder reserved only for great palientologists. we stumbled across many hidden paths and staircases, one in particular that led us through a high ledge and onto a nooked small patch of green earth that boasted the best view of skies, the hills, and the rivers ever so far below. i sat on this patch for what felt like an eternity, though still not long enough, feeling every inch of the landscape with my eyes and trying as hard as i could to paste such a canvas, as it were, into the far reaches of my mind. i want to be able to revisit such a place after i am long gone from peru- the land and the mindset. in the chaos of life in the north american fast lane, i take comfort in knowing that i can escape at any moment into the mental canvases that i have tucked away inside my subconscious.

the altitude makes it hard to breathe, but given time, our bodies can adjust. and just like our bodies, our minds learn to adjust as well. we can let the folleies of life leaving us frazzled and panting, seeking validation instead of purpose, or we can give ourselves time to learn to breathe again, though things may look different than we would have imagined them to.

as the sun set on the most breath taking of views of all of Cusco, nessled in a valley of rooves and rulered edges, i leaned over the balcony of our quaint little hostel's railing wondering about life and death, air and breath. sure, i had lost a lot, monetarily. robbed of funds and robbed of time by the most artful of dodgers. but i had also gain an immense amount; a great appreciation for the art of the city, an equal appreciation of the achievements of the Incas, and an understanding of why life must weigh down on us at times in order to reveal so much more than it takes away.

ñp

posted by crooked girl @ 12:26 AM