4,341 words: a rambling recap of the last three months
(unedited)
It’s been a long while since I posted about our journey. Keeping up with photos and short updates on Instagram has felt manageable, whereas every time I sit down to write a formal post, I feel blocked. In an effort to offer a brief chronology, at least, of our whereabouts, I am going to attempt writing a wee bit on each stop from the last few months. It is long, rambling and, possibly at times, seems incoherent but here’s hoping it makes sense!
We left Uruguay in late July and spent a week in Buenos Aires. Our arrival in Buenos Aries was met by a phony AirBnB host and apartment, leaving us in the dark, in the rain on a street corner with no ability to connect with the internet. After being annoyed by the situation, fate led us to a hotel in the heart of a cute part of town. It was nearly 11PM and they had a room. We rarely stay in hotels as they are expensive and don’t provide us with the ability to cook. But this twist of fate was a gift! We ended up staying for five or so nights enjoying the hot shower, comfy bed, rest and all around peace.
It was in Buenos Aires that I was acutely reminded of the nutrition requirements of my body. Leaving our kitchen in Uruguay, I knew it would be a challenge to find foods that make me feel vibrant rather than sickly. But, this is a journey and staying in one place was not the purpose of it. I got sick in Buenos Aires for the first time since eating a mindful diet in Uruguay. It landed me in bed for a couple days but offered an unexpected, heart-warming silver lining. The night I was coming down with my diet-related illness, we walked to a Vietnamese place for simple, nourishing soup. We were warmly greeted by the owner and her partner. She was from Vietnam, he was from South Africa and they fell in love visiting Buenos Aires and decided to stay. When our order came, I could not eat. In fact, the nausea was building up and I asked John if he could rush through his meal so I could get home as soon as possible.
The owners noticed my reluctance for eating and inquired if I was okay. I let them know I was coming down with a stomach thing but that it wasn’t contagious and I would be okay. Within a few moments, they brought me homemade ginger tea and they doted on me the whole time we were there. When we were leaving, the woman asked me where our hotel was because she wanted to bring me more ginger tea later that night and make sure I was okay.
We found this kind of warm-heartedness throughout Buenos Aires. In a city of more than ten million people, we were amazed by the level of kindness and care—making Buenos Aires an all-time favorite city for us.
From Buenos Aires we went to Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Sort of in the north east part of the country. Santa Cruz is sprawling and chaotic but we also appreciated it a great deal. We spent our 4th wedding anniversary in a family-style cafeteria with bright halogen lights, a salad bar that very well could have items out for hours and hours, the attentiveness of our waiter and all the happy families surrounding us. As per usual, we were the only table not drinking soda pop in large volumes. Soda, Coke products specifically, are consumed in nearly every place we’ve visited—by the bucket full. And, the bodies of the locals are responding with bloated bellies across the board.
From Santa Cruz we went to a town called Samaipata. A delightful little spot in Bolivia that is home to bohemian expats from all over the world. Bolivia has a decent wine industry, which surprised me to learn, and Samaipata is right in the heart of it. We stayed for a few days enjoying the food (which was close to how I need to eat!), wine and really, really good live music. We also spent days hiking and one day at an animal refuge where monkeys and other brilliant and breathtaking creatures roam freely.
It was in Bolivia that we discovered coca leaves. Coca is used to make cocaine, but is the legal and naturally growing plant leaf that does not provide a notable high (cocaine is the result of an intensive and toxic chemical process). Coca is used primarily to calm altitude sickness and stomach upset. The origin of Coca-Cola is South America where, once again, colonial capitalists exploited the people and culture to make a drink made for resolving illness and turned it into something that, later in Coke’s life, directly contributes to disease. It is a myth that Coca-cola had cocaine in it. It was originally made with coca leaves — not at all the same.
From Samaipata we traveled to a town we fell in love with called Sucre. It is one of the capitals of Bolivia with a rich history; a ton of green, lush parks and beautiful colonial buildings. It is a family friendly town, so much so, we could imagine expats moving their families there because of how safe, serene and kid-focused it is. It was in Sucre that I got hit again with illness, this time a severe sinus infection. Being in such a dry climate only aggravated it because, if you don’t know, the cause of most sinus infections is dryness in the nose, swelling up the lining between the inner sinus and the nose and mouth, where fluid can release from. Leaving fluid in the deep sinus stuck with no where to go. I had no way to moisten my sinuses and was sick for nearly the entire time we were in Bolivia.
From Sucre we traveled back through Santa Cruz then onto a town called Potosi, which sits at more than 13,000 feet. We were only in Potosi for a couple days, on purpose, as a way to acclimate to the altitude before heading the Uyuni and the Salt Flats. By the time we arrived in Uyuni, I was far too sick for our booked three-day trek into the frigid Bolivian desert. Sadly, I stayed under a mountain of blankets in Uyuni, which is the weirdest place ever, as John went ahead on the multi-day trek. I was fortunate to find a hostel with hosts that took me under their wing as a 4th child. They tended to me with such care and love, giving me a hot water bottle for my feet and head, offering me hot tea all day long, making certain I was toasty, fed and warm. Another silver lining of being sick. They called me "Lolita" with great affection.
By the 2nd to last day, I felt better and decided to take a day trip into the salt flats—I’d come too far to miss it! On my tour, I found two women who, through the duration of the day, would become kindred friends and with whom, I hope to stay connected. The salt flats are utterly amazing and sadly, like anything along the Gringo Trail, over-trekked by tourists. Tour drivers have a dangerous tendency to drink while tourists do their thing at the various stops. For images of the salt flats, check out my Instagram.
When I returned from the day trip to the salt flats, I was met by my beloved John, who I hadn’t seen or talked to in three days. A sight for sore eyes. Nothing like a little distance to remind us how much we love people.
The salt flats were amazing. It is hard to put into words, which is why funny photos have become the way to show others how cool a place it is. My favorite moment, though, was on our return to town at sunset, when our driver stopped the car, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and we watched as the sun gently kissed the salt covered ground. There was no sound, no sense of familiar space—it was utterly breathtaking.
The next day we headed off for La Paz. La Paz is also the weirdest place I’ve ever been, possibly even weirder than Uyuni. I can’t really describe it but something about it made me feel restless and uneasy. Not a fear for my safety, more so, a sense that a single earthquake there could destroy the entire city in less than a minute. Many places we explored in Bolivia gave me that uneasy feeling. A feeling of human vulnerability in nature’s great power. More so than any other place I’ve traveled. The lack of water throughout Bolivia, dried up rivers and in La Paz, the built human world, tucked into every nook and cranny of mountains and down into valleys. Very little green, no water. I suppose I felt thirsty deep in my bones.
On the plus side, the apartment we stayed in was one of our all-time favorites, with a bed and a shower that felt like pure luxury — even though they were still very modest. (You probably have the sense that a good bed and a decent shower make a world of difference for me—you’d be right to assume that). Again, beautiful and friendly people everywhere we roamed.
From La Paz we traveled to Copacabana. A small village on the edge of Lake Titicaca. Our bus had to leave at 4AM (3 hours early) due to planned protests that would shut down the road to Lake Titicaca. My time at Lake Titicaca was more heartbreaking than joyful. I’d imagined it would be an oasis of beauty and wonder. The place where dehydrated Bolivia can take a refreshing drink of water. And, it was if I squinted. What caught me off-guard was the horrendous and undeniable pollution problem. In fact, all of Bolivia has a serious, nature-threatening pollution problem. Despite having a program for collecting garbage, recycling, organics, etc., people tend to throw their trash out the window or drive out of town a bit, and dump garbage in what was once a pristine natural landscape. This means every natural place in Bolivia is covered in trash. The towns are spotless, but between towns, litter is pervasive. When we arrived in Copacabana, litter covered the trails to the lake, the lake itself and, the nearby cemeteries. We watched as families came to pay their respects to their deceased loved ones in the cemetery on the shore of the lake, leaving their picnic garbage on the ground when they were done. It was confusing and heartbreaking.
This was an ongoing struggle for me in Bolivia. I wanted to understand but our limited time didn’t permit for diving in and getting local insight. We did, however, meet a couple from the U.S. who moved to Copacabana years ago to do charitable work, and who expressed two things about the litter issue: Bolivians, they said, have historically only used organic products (like most humans) and generations of trusting the Earth to reclaim the organics they toss out, had worked well until plastics became the norm. Now, the historical cultural pattern is in play but the products do not decompose. The couple also said that the devastating poverty in Bolivia pulls attention away from things like sustainability and litter. Understandably.
In my time working in the sustainability bureau with the City of Portland, I learned how people have a natural tendency to litter unless there is a proactive behavioral training process to help folks choose a sustainable path. My job was to educate folks on better ways to engage with “trash,” trying to help folks realize there is NO “away” and thus, we need to think with a reuse and regenerative mindset. It felt, at times, Sisyphean.
All along this journey, I’ve struggled with the disharmony I’ve witnessed between people and nature and people and animals. It isn’t everywhere, but it is most places (U.S. too). The introduction of the western diet of French fries and coke, the over consumption of meat (now the center of the plate rather than a side), and the ever-increasing use of plastics, has been impossible for me to look away from. I have carried a mix of anger, shame and heartache as a result. Where my struggle lies is in not being able to do something to help and participating in it just by being a tourist. We pick up litter, we give attention to and feed animals, we give to folks who express need. This feels right, but it is not enough. Especially given how tourism destroys most popular places.
By the time we arrived in Isla del Sol, a small island on Lake Titicaca, I was exhausted body, mind and spirit. We were only on the island for a day, then headed back to Copacabana where we caught the bus to Perú.
Please don’t mistake my truth-telling about litter and such heartaches to incentivize a feeling of judgement of the people or countries we visit. Of all the issues I see in our journey, not all but most, can be easily traced back to the consumerist, throw away societies of the “first world.” We are all responsible for the trash in Lake Titicaca, the plastics that came from the sea and littered the coast of Uruguay, the selling off of the Amazon rain forest to international oil companies—oil used mostly by the U.S., and the exploitation and violence towards indigenous communities.
I realize it might be a turn off, when I share the less vacation-like truths of our travels. It has been even harder to witness. Colonizers continue to do harm in our influence on cultures, and our destruction of their land and communities.
We arrived in Perú the last day of August and spent our first night in a town near the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, called Puno. A cute town full of Tuk Tuks, which we would have stayed longer in, had we not had a reservation in the Amazon a few days later. From Puno, we went to Arequipa. Another great town we didn’t have time to explore. And from Arequipa to Lima.
In early September we flew to Iquitos, Perú. The largest town in the Amazon not accessible by roads. And from there, John and I headed out on separate journeys for a couple weeks.
These five beautiful souls have offered their healing gifts to facilitating healing and illumination in travelers. Never in my 42 years have I had physicians align me with health, joy and hope the way these healers did. I hold deep reverence for each of them. The love, care, playfulness, joy and alchemy they stepped into on my behalf, words simply cannot describe.
If you want to learn more about our Amazon experiences, please ask.
From Iquitos, we flew back to Lima where we stayed in a hostel with a family who would quickly become OUR family. We intended to stay in Lima for a few days then head back into nature. Alas, we had a strange experience of both getting sick, again and again. First John with losing his voice, then me with 5 days of severe diarrhea which required fluids at the hospital. Happily, John and I both got better for one day, then I was hit with: a cold, sinus infection, conjunctivitis in both eyes and bronchitis. Ugh!
Because our journey out of Lima would require me to be on a bus for 10+ hours, we needed to wait until I was able to pull that off and I wasn’t infectious. I’d never had bronchitis before, but learned it can be contagious for weeks. I spent a little more than two full weeks in bed recovering.
The silver lining to this round of illness was in making a deep friendship with Paco, the son of the family who owns the place we stayed when we first returned from the jungle. We reached out to him when I was on day 3 of diarrhea and he became our guardian angel. He took us to the hospital where he advocated for me and translated between myself and the doctors. He also did his part in making me laugh way too much while hooked up to an IV and machines in the hospital—who goes to the hospital and has fun? We did! He spent six hours with us and in the days following, kept checking in on us to make sure I was healing. We love Paco!
Befriending Paco made leaving Lima difficult. Aside from being SO sick, we really loved what we experienced of Lima. Once we both felt better, we spent more time with Paco, including watching the Columbia vs. Perú fútbol qualifier for the World Cup. But, as long as we were in Lima, I couldn’t fully recover. And John got some sort of two-day stomach thing only made worse by the lack of sleep caused by the honking from the street below. The places we stayed were noisy, both our bodies were desperate for quiet and nature, neither Lima could provide. We also fell in love with Paco’s dad, Angelo—and our farewell was bittersweet.
I cannot end a brief note about Lima without sharing about Parque Kennedy—a park FULL of cats, who we would visit every day I could muster getting out of bed. Also, Lima is the place where we ate the best food of our trip, enjoyed art, music, culture and so many craft and organic markets it felt a lot like Portland. We LOVE Lima. And, it makes us sick. Go figure.
We finally left Lima in mid-October and headed north for eleven hours to a coastal surf town called Huanchaco. John had the fortune of surfing beautiful, long waves each day and I, well . . . . I had the misfortune of getting traveler’s diarrhea. If it sounds ridiculous—how sick I’ve been—it was totally ridiculous! This time it was clear I ate something that compromised my system (I had the same exact thing in India) and my doctor (back home) said me that bronchitis dampens the immune system, so my ability to fight off bad bacteria was low. After treating all my illnesses, to this point naturally, this time I decided, with encouragement from my doctor, to take antibiotics we were carrying with us. Within 6 hours, my fever was gone and within 18 hours, I was able to board a night bus that would travel for ten hours (not including the flat tire we had) further up the coast.
Some people might be wondering why I’ve been so sick, so often. I’ve had a lot of time to ponder this myself. Since leaving Uruguay and not having much control over the food I eat is a big player. Proper nutrition leads to a strong immune system. When people are eating foods they can’t tolerate well, it creates chronic inflammation—which requires one’s immune system to put its energy into cooling inflammation, leaving invaders to wreak havoc. The other part is a no-brainer, long-term travel is E X H A U S T I N G. We are always on the move, always at the mercy of the place were in—whether we get sleep or not, whether we’re inundated with pollution, noise or the general discombobulation of never having any consistency, ever. Travel can be hard on the immune and nervous systems.
I continue to advocate for my nutrition but, being on the road is difficult when it comes to eating well. It’s great when we have a kitchen, but unless I carry a big bag of oils, spices, non-grain/no-dairy snacks (can be impossible to find) and seeds with me (and I have been) no kitchen is complete and we’re not going to buy these things again and again, only to leave them behind every few days. The weight of my pack now has more to do with carrying certain food items, than clothes.
It would be so much easier if my body didn’t react to food the way it does. But, after being on this journey for a year, learning how to eat in a way that makes every cell in my body feel invigorated, learning and healing with Shipibo in the Amazon, I realize that my body (all bodies) are tuning forks. What we eat, absorb (see, taste, hear, touch, smell) all of it has an impact on our overall wellness and no one is able to override the impact of environment and poor nutrition by will alone. Some people don’t react at all to the toxins or stimuli around them, but they are still impacted, it might just take more time for the cumulative effect to lead to symptoms. And some people have grown accustomed to popping pills for each symptom, which provides relief, but not healing.
I am one of those people who feels it early and acutely. Since being in the jungle, I’ve stopped thinking that there is something “wrong” with me and I now recognize that noticing symptoms of imbalance and tending to them, is a positive thing. It isn’t about “fixing” or, more accurately, silencing the symptoms so they are less intrusive, but rather, I understand symptoms are the body and mind’s way to alert us of imbalance somewhere in the system. Humans are microcosms of the whole of the planet and humanity. We are inextricably connected to it all—to believe that we can pollute the air, water, soil and our food supply and remain healthy is a delusion.
I do fantasize about being home, where I can go to farmer’s markets and eat an abundance of organic foods, preferably that I make with the confidence of knowing exactly what I am eating. I fantasize about being pain-free and not bloated. I count the days until I can take control over my nutrition again. But, I rest knowing that there is nothing “wrong” with me and that I know how to solve all my health ailments with nutrition, because I've done it before. That is an unexpected spark of personal power I’ve gained from this year in South America. I know how to heal myself.
Eleven days ago, when we landed along the coast in Mancora, after our eleven-hour night bus, we were tired and grumpy (a little sick of each other) but delighted to be enveloped by warmth. We settled in for a quick bite before heading to our remote spot between two surf breaks, where we have been ever since. When I woke up the morning after we arrived (I slept that first day), I woke up to a feeling of deep peace and calm. My body felt great, my mind was clear and my heart was happy. Our view, from my bed, is of the Pacific and when I say "view," I mean, if I walk ten feet from my bed, I stand on the beach and another 75 or so feet, I’m in the ocean.
We have extended our time here three times and we'll celebrate John’s birthday, tomorrow, here before heading north to Ecuador on the 2nd. This place is a tranquil gift. It provides an abundance of nature to settle my cells and soften my mind. It is a place, like the Amazon, where we don’t have to work so hard to feel well—feeling good (body/mind/spirit) is the natural setting here. It is not luxurious, it is simple—and that simplicity feels better than I imagine a Beverly Hills spa would.
This is a lot of information and it’s all over the place, and mostly my perspective/experience—but I knew if I didn’t get it out in one shot, it would be months before I’d post another word on our travel blog.
We’re planning our next month+ for Ecuador, where we have a bunch of friends to visit, people we befriended when we were in Ecuador last spring. We have more nature-dwelling to do in the lushness of Ecuador and we're happy for it, but sad that Ecuador represents our last country to visit (again) for this particular journey. We’re not certain of our return date to the U.S., but we hope to be celebrating Christmas with my dad in Los Angeles. And from there, little is known for sure.
If you’ve read this far, you get a gold star!