Tuesday, May 27, 2008

First time out . . .

It's time for me to leave the country.

Not for political asylum or unregulated gambling opportunities. Not yet. Often my desire for other continents leads me to seek out the world wonders on Google Earth at all hours of the night, perhaps slightly drunk. Other times I study the slick, curled surface of the world map vinyl shower curtain in my lady's bathroom. Usually in my boxers, brushing my teeth.

Spit. Rinse. Tibet is there, but it's the same color of China? Mmmm.

Have you ever played geosense? I love it. Pray you don't cross me in a match up. Sho nuff. I know the GDP of Tuvalu and the capital of Ethiopia and how fun it is to say. Beyond the maps and facts, there's that one personal experience. When I was 14 I canoed into Canada with a group of Boy Scouts. Nothing looked different and we didn't talk to anyone else before turning around. Actually, I do remember someone calling out to us from a bridge. "Aye there," is about all I could make out. This was my only foreign interaction before deciding on a trip to Peru - the South American country of and not the sister city of LaSalle.

The intrepid Ms. Kavanavelica, had only one week away from work in May, so we started planning. Sweden? Denmark? Senegal? The we were offered standby tickets to anywhere in the world where Delta jets go from my river rafting mate Aaron Kleidon. Wisely, beautifuly, my love lady K, with the help of Werer Hertzog, struck me right with the suggestions of South America. I've had dreams of the places there before. A culture and history similar to ours, intertwined, infected by colonial fever and the idea of Manifest Destiny. Of unknown lands, resources, riches. Pioneers and ancient warriors. Savagery. Slaves. Civil War. A political coup or two. Beastial acts. Amazing beauty.

"Who am I going to have to pay when you're kidnapped?" No one dad.

"You didn't get a yellow fever shot!" It'll be fine mom.

And with that, we flew up and over the equator to see about this place. A week later, we didn't want to come back.













Waiting for the bus in Rumichaca, Peru. Altitude: 11,90 ft. (-12.3833, -75.1333)