Nazca
August 12th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Nazca is a fascinating outpost that is supported primarily by the tourist money that comes in because of the Nazca Lines. Fifty dollars for a half-hour ride surely makes some of the locals good money (hundreds of tourists take the flights every day), although the wealth clearly doesn’t reach most of the residents. The town’s main street, frequented by passing tourists, looks as much like Disneyland as Peru.
Just a block off the main street, however, Nazca resembles the rest of the country. And from there the surrounding mountains are also obviously visible.
Another few blocks from the town center is a dry river that separates the main part of town, no rich enclave itself, from poorer areas that become shanties farther out.
Paracas
August 12th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
To illustrate the trip as I should have done at the time, I’ll post a couple pictures from each destination, in the order I traveled. Here’s Paracas:
My travels
August 12th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Where I went in Peru and Ecuador (click the tabs or the View Larger Map link below to see destinations and dates):
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Notes from (Ecuador and) Peru: #6–The End
August 11th, 2008 § 1 Comment
Weeks ago, when I wrote last, I was in Quito, Ecuador, suffering through one of the worst four-day periods of my life. I was sick and lonely, stuck in a hotel room in a foreign country, with no prospects for improvement each day. I got better after a couple days, then I moved on and continued my trip, moving south to Guayaquil. The trip got much better again, but not until I got back to Peru. « Read the rest of this entry »
Quite a show
August 11th, 2008 § 1 Comment
Having grown up in a city, fireworks were not a part of my childhood celebrations. I saw them regularly, but always from afar. Somewhere in New York Harbor or the East River the rockets go up, and over the city they explode. I can see them, but I can’t feel them.
One year during elementary school my family went down to visit my uncle in North Carolina for the Fourth of July. I remember kids holding sparklers and maybe someone lit real fireworks, but it wasn’t a big show, and most of it is gone from my memory. So I jumped at the opportunity to light fireworks myself and see them go off only feet away from me, for the first time I could remember.
July 28th is the Peruvian Independence Day, el día patria, and I spent the day with a dozen other Americans. But we wanted to get into the spirit of the day, so we decided to buy fireworks, or efectivos explosivos, to give ourselves and some residents of Ayacucho a show for Independence Day.
[Unfortunately in uploading the photos to the website they've lost some of their color. The original photos are more colorful than they appear here, and the full color can be seen by clicking on the photos.]
We bought a castillo–a castle– with five stories. We didn’t know what to expect, but the stack of bamboo and the diagram gave hints.
After some searching, a member of our party found a lot where we could light the fireworks. It turned out to be a hardtop, and when we got there we found a group of people playing music and dancing. Nothing unusual.
We watched the men set up the castillo.
Then we watched the show.
As you can see, it was a beautiful evening.
A war in the past
August 11th, 2008 § Leave a Comment
Since arriving home, many have asked me about my time in Peru. I’ve fielded general questions about my personal experiences, as well as several about Peruvian culture, history, and politics. I can give my take on Peruvian culture, since traveling and living for a couple months allows one to at least taste local flavor. But since I had no job with a distinguished academic or professional organization–and therefore no boss or colleagues to regularly direct questions to–and since I found my Spanish wasn’t good enough to maintain sophisticated conversations, I wasn’t able to educate myself well on serious or complex topics, including many from the national history. So when I’ve been asked about Peruvians’ attitudes toward Fujimori or the Shining Path (who are, apparently, the most-well known Peruvians in my circles back home), I haven’t had thorough answers. The best I can offer is that I heard little about Peru’s deadly war that ended only fifteen years ago, so it seems that chapter is tucked into the country’s memory. Maybe the war still comes up, just not with foreigners. I’m sure it is remembered. But the country bears no remaining physical scars. And images that would indicate recent pain and not-yet-healed wounds in another time or place seemed innocuous here.
I’ve begun working my way through the 6,000 photos I took in Peru (which is not so many when seen as only 100 photos a day). I’ll have small albums posted this week.
Brushes
August 8th, 2008 § 2 Comments
As I emerged from the subway at 96th Street yesterday, I spotted a face I recognized coming down the stairs toward me. Immediately I could see it was Steve Somers, a WFAN personality I grew up listening to–at least, I believed it was. After all, I’ve only ever seen a single picture of Steve’s face on the WFAN website. (As you can see, it’s not a perfect picture, but he appears to be a distinctive-looking guy, and the man I spotted looked identical to the man in that photo.)
Understand that the sight of Steve Somers in the flesh affected me as a star athlete or a Hollywood celebrity would affect many others–only on top of the element of fame, add a tremendous amount of admiration and years’ worth of memories. I started listened to Somers’ show, on WFAN before and after Met games, at age 11, tuning in most nights a week for four or five years. For months at a time my radio wouldn’t be turned off; instead, I turned the volume down when I left the apartment and back up again when I returned. Nearly every weekend evening for several years I heard Gary Cohen and Bob Murphy call Met games, followed by Steve Somers schmoozing with fans. Somers was smart, gentle, funny, and warm on the air. He was an electronic friend, a comforting voice that never needed to belong to a real person as long as I persisted. Still today, when I turn on WFAN, I hear Steve Somers most evenings.
In the moments after recognition, I debated whether I should stop him and tell him I was a fan. I didn’t worry about what I would say, nor really that I might upset him. Instead, I worried mainly about my self-image. I considered, as reasons not to stop him, that I would feel guilty if I made him miss an incoming train; that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure this was the man I thought it was (a man I had never seen before); and that I’m supposed to be a good New Yorker, a quick-footed and unfazed pedestrian who treats other New Yorkers, famous and anonymous, with the same ambivalence. But here was a childhood idol of mine! If I let him go, would I regret it forever?
I guess I’ll find out. I did not shout, “Mr. Somers!” as I climbed the stairs, so I don’t know for sure it was him. But I believe it was, and only time will tell whether I continue to regret my missed opportunity. For know, I’ll have to be content with the moment I had, my brush with a hero from my past.
When I’m not on the street, I approach famous people and people I admire more boldly. It’s easy to do by email, so I’ve recently made a habit of doing so, sending emails to people whose work I appreciate. I’ve found the notes are valued, often returned with thanks. I heard back from Michael Shaw, the brains behind BAGnewsNotes, a blog dedicated to analyzing photos that appear in journalistic media, when I wrote to him several weeks ago. And, most recently, upon discovering Ta-Nehisi Coates, the newest blogger for The Atlantic, I sent him an email saying I’ve begun going through his impressive archives and I look forward to reading his blog in the future. Not more than forty-five seconds later, an email arrived in my inbox. Coates had written back:
wow. that is really really awesome. thanks so much for the kind words.
t.
No, what’s awesome is seeing a childhood idol as you hop off the subway, or getting an instant response from a writer who you know has more important things to do than answer your emails. I feel very lucky for even these small excitements.
Sign of something good
August 8th, 2008 § 1 Comment
I was at the orthodontist today (I’m too old for the orthodontist, no?), and while I was waiting in one chair, an assistant spoke to the girl next to me, telling her, “You can use the remote and headphones to watch TV if you want.” The girl, who was probably thirteen or fourteen, smiled sweetly and said, “Thank you,” before reaching into her bag and taking out this book. She highlighted as she read, and, though it could have been assigned reading, 1) it’s summer–not many middle-schoolers have to read for school in August–and, 2) assigned or no, I’m still impressed, and just a little inspired.
Separately, I haven’t posted in weeks because I was finishing my time in Peru and settling in at home. Expect a final post on my travels soon, and check back, since I’ll be posting regularly again.
