Rosita

The nightbus takes me to Palenque, in the south of Mexico- in the morning the army checked us on weapons and drugs. 

I am pretty adament on sleeping on my own, but that night a scorpion wants to share my bed with me in the youth hostel. As much of a vegetarian I am, I cannot say I shed a tear when the receptionist killed it (and yes I did sleep in that same bed). 

The two days excursion I take, turns out to be an excellent choice. It is shared with two Mexican couples, who cannot quite get my name, so Rosita it is. Most parts I am going to now are mostly visited by Mexican tourists, generally from the capital or the north (visibly a bit more affluent).

It is quite a drive to Bonampak where we are soon put on a small boat, going over a river, on which one side lies Guatemala, the other Mexico. We are let off at the Maya ruins of Yaxchilan. Yet another archeological site, yet again a new surprise, as found in the middle of the jungle with hardly any other people around. I thoroughly enjoy this visit. Our next visit is to the ruins of Bonampak, where we take a guide, which sheds some (but not a full) light on my curiosity. There are many many Maya sites, as it was a people that consisted of many different groups, that each had their own settlements-villages with their own leaders and typical hierarchy. Regularly they would fight with other Mayan groups. It was more about power than anything else, as their religion and language were often the same. However within that there were variations. Their religion was a combination of beliefs in nature and in a number of gods and included human sacrifice. 

The next day we go on a long walk in the jungle (Selva Lacandonia), finding a  deserted Maya ruin, as there are many more. Unfortunately animalwise not much more than insects and lizards, as the monkeys are too shy.

The night we stay in a cabana at a river in which we swim, which is lovely. The tours are run by the local indigenous people that live there and I am trying hard to understand how they live. The kids will join us at the table, taking breaks from their jobs as vendors of all kinds of bracelets, necklaces, drinks and food. Their Spanish was not always great, but they also do not seem too keen to answer too many questions and what I find odd is that they seem to lack the one quality I so appreciate in children: curiosity. Just get on with life without any questions. I lend them my pen and notebook to draw in, which they eagerly do, and when I ask they tell me they do not have pens at home. They live of agriculture for own consumption and the children are involved in work. Most of them seem to go to a bilingual (Maya and Spanish) school, but education has no priority. The government does seem to come up with projects, but not much is actually put into practise. Obviously the ones living in tourist areas are better off. In town I see small kids selling articles everywhere, I do not like buying from them, but sometimes I give them food - to which one lady remarks; "the government gives indigenous families money for each kid," to which I reply that it is obvious that this child is hungry. Apparently there is an alcohol problem within this culture as well. It is hard to get the right information without actually doing proper research or/and living with them. Those children are part of the streetview and actually easy to ignore as they don't seem to be suffering terribly and don't seem to have criminal tendencies. I prefer not to however.

The night I come back I decide to stay in la Panchan, a 'bohemian' part in the jungle of Palenque with restaurants and places to stay. I stay in a cheap but awful place, old mattrass, many people in one room, all concrete, incredibly loud music...No idea how, but I am so exhausted and I sleep like a log..

Time to do my own thing, I decide the next day. I hitchhike to the waterfalls of Misol-ha and Agua Azul, both very different and stunning, I slip at one point and fall straight forward with my massive backpack on (who would've thought it can be slippery with all that water...). One guy who has taken me on is a soldier, stationed in Michoacan, where currently there is a serious battle going on between drugdealers and the army. He shows me pictures of his weapons and him in a massive field of marihuana. I had already crossed this city off my list of visits...

In the city of San Cristobal I am shocked by the sudden drop of temperature; I find myself at about 2000 meters into the mountains and am not prepared for this. I am sharing a cold house with a Spanish brother and sister who I hang out with for a bit, but in some way are even less social than couples and I get fed up at just tagging along, rather than being part of the company. As I just chat away with anyone I meet, I soon make a friend on a local bus, who decides to spend the rest of an afternoon showing me around town; there are more churches than schools here. She is a lawyer and tells me they are just reforming the law, now people can testify orally in court. Mexicans work six days a week. A five day workweek is called ´semana Inglesa´ funnily enough.

Outside San Cristobal I visit the Canon del Sumidero, a breathtaking boattrip in between rockwalls, encountering crocodiles on the way (and yes they do eat humans). The trip that impresses me most, is the visit to San Juan de Chamula. At first nothing special, lots of little tourist shops, to finally reach a square with a church. The churches here are less decorated than the Italian ones. This one has a lot of life size dolls in glass cabinets, which represent the saints. On the floor there is hay and candles. People are sitting on the floor, praying out loud (not in Spanish) in an almost meditative state, sticking candles to the floor, subsequently holding and waving a chicken over it and then killing it with their hands. They have several plastic bottles around them and drink alcohol from them and some Coca Cola (the smallest, most remote village will have Coca Cola here). It is an odd and somewhat distressing sight. I know the bible often talks of animal sacrifice, but I have never seen it in modern times. It is however more likely to be a Mayan ritual mixed into Catholicism, than biblical.

I have been on the road non-stop and want to take a break, but suddenly realise that I have little time to lose, as I want to go to a folkloristic festival in Oaxaca, so I quickly sign up for the next tour: lakes near the border of Guatemala, before yet again traveling on another nightbus...

Romantic

We tend to romaticise travelling, but the truth is: my feet hurt as one blister is replaced by another, I am sweating bucketloads because of the humid heat, which also ensures I look like I just rolled out of bed on a constant bad hairday, the mosquitos have found their way to my body, my backpack is far too heavy, I have a cold thanks to the constant moving between sun and ventilated rooms and I am tired...so tired... The pay off is however worth it: I am meeting lovely people, my Spanish is improving every day, I see unique historical sites and landscapes. A good week in and I feel I have been here ages, as visited Cancun, Isla Mujeres, Playa, Tulum, Valladolid, Merida and now I am in the jungle, in Palenque. I have visited four Maya sites, which in all honesty has not given me more insight in the Mayan culture. Each site has been similar, yet different, as some places were bigger or had more bas-relief carvings or you could climb the temples and the location would make a difference too. In short: impressive. The people in the province of Yucatan still call themselves Maya and speak Maya, even though the younger generation less so. Besides language and looks, there is not much left of the Mayan culture; it has been completely replaced by Catholicism.

Another typical phenomena here are the cenotes, sinkholes that have developed due to the collapse of limestone bedrock that exposes groundwater underneath.The water is crystal clear and often they can be found in cavernes, as some are completely underground, some semi-underground and some above ground (like a lake). I have swam in three of them and besides refreshing, stunning. One was in an actual cave, and we were surrounded by stalagmites, stalagtites and bats.

I have not had to spend any time alone, as I am staying with locals; either in a hammock or on a mattrass on the floor and listening to their (life)stories. One of my favourite results of travelling, or even life, is collecting stories. I meet other lost travelling souls during the day at various sites. I also met up with an adorable couple and their three years old (I somehow seem to spend a lot of time with three years old during this trip) who I had met seven years ago on a bus in France. I have hung out with a few Dutch I have met at the temples (seperately) and two days with an American guy (as asked him how a hat looked on me and we went from there), who even offered to stay in a hotel (work was paying), a nice luxury! The Mexicans so far have been generous and there seem to be no interest in ripping tourists off, even the taxis are honest. What I noticed here is that most people seem to be overweight. A lot of the food is fried I guess, but I also realised the amounts people eat, as one mother of a host offered me breakfast at eight in the morning and it consisted of a huge piece of beef and rice. I said an apple would do the trick for me..

The coast was very touristy, even though it is low season- except for the the resorts (sun, sea & sex), but now I have moved away from the coast .  I has a bit of a different feel to it, Merida felt like a real city, while the other cities felt like there was one big road and everything built around it. Merida has a lovely, clean colonial centre, although houses look less taken care of when you move away from it, but it did not feel dangerous anywhere.

I better try to get a night´s sleep, as I need to be ready at six for my two day excursion near the Guatemalan border ..

HERE I AM...

Barely at day three and I have left my normal life completely behind. 

The plane was filled with young women with too much make up and tattooed men, looking forward to two weeks of getting plastered and the night clubs where Mexicans are not welcome. 
I was lucky to be picked up at the bus station of Cancun by Pintero, an amateur hip hopper, who showed me the parts of the city that could not have been further removed from the luxury resorts, His place consisted of one room, a few mattresses and a table, attached to it a tiny shabby bathroom. He said it was better not to hang around outside his flat in the evening. He was in the lucky position to make better money (350 vs average of 200 pounds a month) than most, thanks to his good command of English.
After a quick meal, that taught me I will be eating a lot of guacamole and corn based products with vegetables in the coming two months, he dropped me off at the harbour, where I took a boat to Isla Mujeres. This island is like many small islands I have visited: palm trees, the main street filled with souvenir shops and restaurants and beautiful, busy beaches with diving and snorkling day trips. Jacobo had waited for me. He introduced me to his girlfriend (20) and her three years old daughter (father no interest), took me out for dinner, shared his life story and then insisted I downed a few tequilla´s, while convincing the barman to play salsasongs, so we could dance to a few good tunes. This left me with some nasty blisters and still has me limping. 
His room was not much different from P´s, no kitchen, a small bathroom and no furniture. I made myself comfortable in the hammock, but J¨s drunk snoring and my excitement left me with little sleep. In the morning we visited the beach and in the afternoon his girlfriend had arranged for a scooter and showed me the island, which was highly enjoyable. In the evening I was beyond tired, but the couple convinced me to come out to a fun open air bar. I could barely stand on my feet, even though I enjoyed a few moves on the dancefloor (cumbia, salsa, raggaeton, bachata is pretty much the standard music here, so that works fine for me!). Eventually they decided to put me in a taxi, one of their friends volunteering to accompany me- which was a good thing, with the stray dogs barking and the decaying houses being similar. He however, decided to stay and chat for another two hours, hoping for more, and eventually left when he finally got the message that ´no´ actually meant no. The rest stumbled in at five; yet again a night of two hours sleep, as I got up early to join a snorkling trip to a reef and an underwater museum (statues placed under water). After these days of acclimatisation I have left the island and am now ready for the real work to start exploring Mexico´s rich history...

THE ONLY LIMIT TO OUR REALIZATION OF TOMORROW WILL BE OUR DOUBTS OF TODAY (Roosevelt)

I am home! Yes. With a bad cold, still mixing up day and night and not used to the 20-30 degrees drop in temperature. It is great to see my father and brother again (thank you for the beautiful flowers!!), sleep in the same comfortable bed, to throw toilet paper in the toilet (and not in a bin next to it), being able to bake cakes, watch loads of television, but that is really about it. There were definitely no valentine cards waiting for me and I am still not ready to confront reality. At least I have a head (and a camera) filled with beautiful memories.

A quick update on the way back: I caught my cold from the wonderful air co in the plane from Rio to Sao Paolo, there the flight was almost cancelled and we enthusiastically volunteered to stay behind, but unfortunately there was still room last minute. We had two overnight flights during which it was impossible to sleep (films watched: Running with scissors, Volver and Babel).
The day in between we spent in Washington, where we walked around for five hours to see all the presidential and war memorials. Not enough time in Washington, but it was very interesting. In general we felt a lot of the memorials were celebrating victory more than commemorating death and one sided; at the Roosevelt memorial It mentioned the bombing of Pearl Harbour, but not a word about the nuclear bomb or other non-American victims.

It was just too weird to be surrounded by snow, while the day prior we had been lying on the beach. But I guess that is modern times: one day you are at the beach in Rio, the next in the city centre of Washington and the one after that in the outskirts of Amsterdam, sleeping...

I have been thinking of how to conclude this travel blog properly. It is too early to start looking back. One way to round off my last entry here is to look back at the several questions I have been asked, which I have answered personally, but why not make it public (censored of course-sorry took the names out..),..

Most frequent questions asked were by the way:
Where are you now? And when are you coming back?

-: How is the journey? Is it what you expected it to be?
-: by the way hows the crime scene where you're at?

For some reason South-America had been a very old dream of mine.
Why exactly, I don't know. Well, I like travelling and it sounds exotic, but it is
still a culture that might be understandable, seen its European origin.
When planning the trip it still stayed an abstract idea. Sure, we planned a route, prepared ourselves for all kinds of weather and bought loads of medication.
I got warnings about drugs, violence, the men, food poisoning, scam artists, theft...
These warnings did not stop while travelling, but even though we got ill, none of that threatened us. Partly because stories are exaggerated, we were very careful and we were simply lucky.

The trip was both what we expected from it and completely different. Travelling is fun and you see so much, but it also meant feeling very tired all the time, as we never stopped. And even if we did; a nightbus would spoil that again..Every day was different, that is for sure!

At arrival in Argentina it all felt very 'normal', almost as if we were in Europe, but later we found ourselves on completely unfamiliar ground. In that sense we could divide the journey in three 'cultures':
Buenos Aires and Chile: looks and feels very European, familiar
North of Argentina, Peru and Bolivia: poorer, indigenous culture
Brazil: different language, different mixture, different culture

I am constantly asked about high points. I think answering that is both hard and simple: the local people, who showed us around, invited us in or simply told us about their life.
I also enjoyed greatly the several hikes we undertook in Chapada de Diamantinha (Brazil), the volcano in Pucon (Chile) and Torres del Paine (Chile). Then there are of course the famous tourist points, that are famous for an obvious reason: they are breathtaking: the Iguazu falls (Argentina), Machu Picchu (Peru), the glacier in El Calafate (Argentina), the salt flats of Uyuni (Bolivia), the carnival of Brazil and many more sites..

Of course I have only scratched the surface, but South-America is now a vividly existing place for me, in culture, politics and nature.
In short: what this trip did was enabling me not to have a regret later for not doing such a thing and showing me that actually anything is possible, question of doing it!

-: How do you get along with your sister? Are you together all the time or do u sometimes go out and do stuff when the other one wants to stay inside?
We were practically always together and shared every moment and illness. No, we never fought, even though it would happen that we would snap at each other for a few minutes when tired & hungry, but that was really it. Well..we had a lifetime of practice...

-: And where is base camp? London ? Amsterdam... or wherever your family is?
Home is where your backpack is...Right now it is here, in Holland, but I do hope to take it back to London. I do believe that home is where your heart is, even if it means moving in between two places (or more). It is hard, but I also consider it a luxury. I am not entirely sure where to place London at this very moment, it feels far, it is entirely up to me to create my own home there. Anyone got a job & house for me, by any chance?!

-: Been meaning to ask you how it's going not eating meat out there? Guess it's ok cause there's a fair amount of fish depending on where you are. Do you eat shellfish?
No shellfish for me. Still a vegetarian, but it was hard at times. Not even so much because the steaks looked great in Argentina, but hard because sometimes there wasn't much else (= just rice) to eat. On the boat to Belem (Brazil) I did eat some of the meat soup, as I did not want to go to sleep hungry, but I couldn't force myself beyond a few bites. Nothing wrong though with the way South-Americans treat their animals btw. Lost weight (and strength), that is for sure!

-: any prospects on a new job?
Have not started looking yet and no offers! I am looking for a job into Publishing..anyone?

-: Heard that you are going to Nahum this summer ?
I really really do want to go to Israel this summer, but it is going to depend on my job situation, as I am sure no new boss will be thrilled if I asked for 3 weeks off after a month...

I did enjoy writing this blog very much and it was a way for me to digest some of the many impressions we had. I want to thank everybody who read, reacted and wrote me over the past few months, it meant a lot to me and am looking forward to seeing you again!

O MUNDO PARA PRA FANTASIA (do Cavaco,Totonho,Remédio)

We arrive at a ridiculous early hour in Rio de Janeiro (River of January, the month it was discovered in, in 1502), but still get a warm welcome by Michel in his beautiful apartment on the 24th floor. We do not know him, but we are both fellows and he has invited us to stay in his house.
On one side of the flat we look out over the biggest favela of Rio and on the other side we look out over the ocean and the tennis court and swimming pool. Michel and his wife Sheila are very generous with us and it makes our stay in Rio very comfortable.
Rio could be described in one word: Sunny. It is a big city, with not even that many specific tourist attractions, but it has a great natural setting, surrounded by green mountains and the blue sea with its busy beaches, with names like Ipanema and Copacabana (remember the songs?). Our touristy activities include visits to the Pão de Açúcar (sugerloafmountain) and the huge Christ statue for the views. We get many warnings about the dangers, but the most dangerous thing we do in Rio is going to the beach; the waves are really high and even standing knee deep in water can knock you off your feet, but it is fun.

Every person we've met on the way who has been to Rio, advised us to go on a so called favelatour. Even though we feel a bit reluctant, as we are not that excited about watching the poor, we're convinced and we go. With a guide and about ten other tourists we go up the mountain and wander down through the narrow streets of Rocinha, the biggest in South-America. About 200.000 inhabitants live here. A lot of small houses, families, open sewers, a bad smell and a good view. Favelas have a bad reputation mainly for all the drug dealing that is going on and the guide points out a guy here and there that is supposedly checking who is coming in and out. He kind of freaks out when someone wants to take a picture of two marijuana smoking guys. Almost funny to us, as marijuana is really no big deal to us Amsterdammers. My sister asks him if he pays anyone to leave us alone. He is all defensive and first answers with a "who told you that?" and then a " of course not, I do whatever I want." It was an interesting visit in the sense that we could see how it really is and not just hear stories about it. Most houses, made of concrete and brick, up there are legal. There is basic sanitation, plumbing, and electricity and even shops. Most people have jobs and are not the criminals that a lot of people try to make of them. It still however felt like a trip in which we went to see the poor. It might've been different had we just arrived in South-America, but we had already had a fair share of decayed houses and smelly streets...

Then there was the carnival....Carnival is not so much about dressing up. It is more about big trucks with music and singers on it and people jumping and dancing behind them. These are called 'blocos' and are all over town. We somehow never got really in the mood to get lost in the noise and crowds and mainly watched it from the bus we would be stuck in (constantly). The famous carnival with the dresses and the samba has been taken out of the streets into an especially designed stadium, called the Sambodromo. Four nights, from 8pm till about 6am the various schools present their bateria (drum section), their floats and their thousands of dressed up dancers. The family we were staying at had signed themselves up and bought a suit and were dancing in the parade. Sylvia and me did not have tickets to go in, but we watched them from the side, at the entrance of the stadium. We had a fantastic time watching the colourful masses and original floats.
This can also be described in one word: Loucura
!

CARNAVAL!

We are flying homewards tonight!

WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH, THE TOUGH GETS GOING

We arrived in Brazil after three months non-stop travelling and tiredness had gotten the best of us. Even though we had decided to take it easier, it did not happen. Everything seemed a little bit more difficult and the Brazilians not very helpful. Feeling ill did not lift our spirits much either and I started to feel ready to go home. The constant repetitive conversation with other tourists about ´wherehaveyoubeen´, ´whereareyougoingto´and ´whereareyoufrom´were boring me and I was looking forward to more personal connections.
Now that the actual returning date is nearing, the opposite is true. Feeling well helps a great deal to enjoy the surrounding. We have been having a great time since Salvador!

We visited a small island in front of Salvador, called Morro de Sao Paolo where we just lazed around on the beach.
We visited Lençois after that, which is the best thing we have done in Brazil (so far, with just a few days left). Lençois is a small village with freshly painted houses and cobblestone streets. The locals, who all work in tourism, do not have that much to do in the evening and are more than happy to hang around with tourists. OK, being two girls does help, as it was mostly male attention..I will need to adapt again in Europe, by far most guys here are dark, muscled and good dancers...nothing wrong with white,skinny and stiff, but still...;-)
We did not come for Lençois, though. We came for its park: Chapada de Diamantinha (Plateau of small diamonds), which is almost as big as Holland and where diamonds used to be found. We took a three day hike, during which we visited several beautiful waterfalls, including Fumaça the second highest (400 meters) in South America. I found the hike pretty tough, often having to use both legs and hands as we were climbing over rocks. I think all hikes we have done were not easy, but they were all the highpoints of our stay. I am sure there is a lesson in that!
Our 9 persons strong group consisted mainly of Israelis and they annoyed me, as they were like a lot of Israelis we have met: noisy, impolite and only into their own.
However it is wrong to generalise that much, as in the beautiful town of Vila Rica de Ouro Preto (rich village of black gold) we met some cool Israelis who took us to a republica (student dorm) where we witnessed a band practice for carnaval (still a little deaf) and where locals and tourists happily mixed. As this town thrived on former goldmines, we visited one. Impressive how complicated finding gold is! (and how many slaves were abused to do so).

Tonight we are off to our last stop: Rio de Janeiro, even if we are contemplating about whether we should stay longer or not.

IT IS THE LITTLE THINGS...

Most of what Brazil offers is coast. I get easily bored at the beach, so we try to visit Natural Parks. This is easier said than done.
At 7 a.m. there is a bus going to the park of Sete Ciudades from Piripiri, the nearest village to the park, say some. Others say that this bus does not run anymore. We just have to find out for ourselves. As soon I step out of bed with one food, I feel that I am being bitten. I look down and discover my rug sack has been attacked by an army of little red ants. After a fierce battle, I win, but then it is passed seven. (after again more conflicting opinions, we establish that that bus does not run anymore). Now we have extra time and we visit the bank. There are several banks in town, but of course none accept any of our international cards.
We call a cab, agree on a price, but when it is there, the driver claims he misunderstood and asks more. We are not surprised, but we hold on and he eventually gives in.

At the park all roads are clearly indicated, but it is mandatory to take a Portuguese speaking guide, who does not add much to the visit.
The Park has several rock formations and if you stare long enough at them, you can see animal shapes in them. It is kind of fun, but very hot.

The same evening we try to catch a bus to Ubajara, to visit another park. The bus is late and we miss our connection. We look for a place to stay in Tiaguia, but just that day the yearly motorcross rally takes place and everything is fully booked. A nice hotel owner offers that we can stay in the bar area, sleep on a plastic chair. An American walks in, apparently being told that some American girls have arrived. He is building a factory vitamin C there for multi billion dollar firm. He seems decent and says that if we do not feel awkward about it, he has an extra room in his house. We do what you do in those instances and trust our instincts and accept his offer.
Greg tells us about life in Brazil. He just moved to this new house. He enjoyed where he used to live, but there he was threatened that he would be beaten up if he did not pay. He called the police and paid them to protect him. After that the police came asking for more and now he had two parties coming round for him. Apparently it only costs you 50 reais (20 euros) to have someone beaten up and 150 (60 euros) to have someone killed. He then moved reluctantly. In all countries we have visited there were warnings and stories about theft, but here there seem to be a stream of stories of violence. It feels like this country lacks harmony.

In Ubajara we experience the same ridiculous rule as in the previous park: the park is open till five, but you are only allowed to visit the waterfalls till 10 a.m. Why is an enigma. After some whining we are walked to the nearest one (again over the only, well indicated road). Just a trickle, but we are excited about the monkeys we see running in the trees high above us. Luckily the park has also some really cool caves, so the 3 km walk to get to the park was worthwhile!

Of course we don´t completely skip the beach, we go to what everybody calls paradise: Jericoacoara. I am all ready to be my sceptical self, but truth needs to be told as well. The village is in spite of its commercial nature very laid back and cute. The beach sandy with palm trees and capoeira is performed constantly. The sea is unfortunately mainly good for surfing, too shallow and too much of a stream to swim. A lot of people come for a few days, but often end up staying longer. So do we, even though that is not a deliberate choice. The first day there I happily announce to Sylvia, who is ill, that my diarrhea seems to be over after two weeks, but in the afternoon I am throwing up on the beach, even after all the liquids in my body are finished. The rota virus has gotten hold of us. This means liquids pouring out from all sides and fever. A struggle not to dehydrate. But of course we beat it, even if it means losing a few kilos.

Now in Pelourinho, a neighbourhood which reminds us of Portugal, if you ignore the very different looking people (staring at me, as they apparently never saw a white girl move her hips) and the beggars who don´t just ask for money, but for bread, in Salvador de Bahia and we are enjoying the pre-carnaval atmosphere...

PEOPLE DON´T TAKE TRIPS, TRIPS TAKE PEOPLE (Steinbeck)

Manaus isn´t a pleasant place, dirty, run down, it just does not make you feel safe. We soon discover that most cities have this feel over themselves. The next city where we conclude this, is Belem. The differences between the rich and poor are so great, it makes you feel uncomfortable. For example in Bolivia there was a lot of poverty, but, and I really don´t intend to sound cynical, everybody is poor. In Belem we see a homeless man stripped naked in the middle of the street and being washed by some kind of aid workers. The next morning we are sitting in a modern mall a few blocks further looking how a poodle gets a pedicure in a dog saloon.

But first we have to get to Belem. The boat is the most logical option. We buy a hammock and go looking for a ticket. We don´t want to buy from the men selling on the street, as we are afraid to get a false one. We go directly to the boat before departure and are a little shocked by what we find: the deck is full of hammocks. Logical, but they are just hanging everywhere, and with that I mean three layers hanging next to each other AND on top of each other. Never seen such a crowded place.

After a lot of doubt (and the captain lowering the price), we decide to embark on this adventure and put up our hammocks and just hope nobody will steal our luggage under it. To get in it, I wake my neighbour, for others to get into theirs, they have to crawl under mine. Except for the sleeping comfort, it turns out not to be so bad, just long. It doesn´t smell and the food is OK. Soon we find the other tourists and the ten of us (Belgians, Argentineans, Sao Paolo, Dave) form a little group that sits on the top deck and drink alcohol (of course not us), chat and dance and even get off the boat to go for a swim on the lovely riverbeach of Santarem.
We also have the opportunity here to meet some Brazilians.
Portuguese is all is spoken here. Written it has a lot of similarities to Spanish, but spoken it is very different. We do our best to speak a little, but if they don´t understand you once, they decide they can´t understand you at all, instead of trying. So far we get by for directions and food and have little conversations on the boat with girls who do have the patience. A lot of young women are already married. One of the girls, Adriana dances every night happily with us, interested in the European boys, but she can´t hide the sad look in her eyes. At 22 she has been divorced for two years and is now taking care of her three children.

There are many beautiful children on the boat. Brazil prides itself with being a nation where all races mix, and in fact you do see black guys with green eyes or fair coloured haired girls with thick curls. But if it is so mixed well, it still makes you wonder how come the elite is all white and the poorest all are black...
The kids are often staring at me. Even though I don´t feel I stand out, I apparently do with my white skin and blue eyes. I do not mind at all, I love kids and enjoy playing with them. Kids are treated with a lot of care and affection here. The girls are little princess and the boys mini-machos, who already master sexy dance moves.
All that is ever danced here is Reggae and Forro (and its variations). I try to learn it, but it doesn´t thrill me. Luckily there is a Colombian guy as well and we danced salsa on the deck, which is great! Yes, I got ´jinga´ which is ´muito legal´!

In Belem we do not get our well deserved rest, see my remark about noise and heat earlier on. We do not feel well at all, as we have pretty bad diarrhea. We however keep on going, do not like Belem that much and take a night bus to Sao Luis. To our surprise the old, colonial part of town is lovely and we think we have found a quiet hotel in the non-traffic zone. Wrong. At night it suddenly comes alive and it sounds like we have several bands performing simultaneously in our room. We do stay three days, ´cause with every visit to the bathroom we feel weaker and weaker. Medications do not seem to do much, but we keep our senses and drink loads. As soon as we feel better we leave for Barreirinhas, where again it is noisy. We visit the dunes nearby. It is a huge sandy area, which makes you feel as if you are in the desert and watch the sunset.

BRAZIL IS THE COUNTRY OF THE FUTURE AND ALWAYS WILL BE

The first week into the New Year was our first week in Brazil.
Not quite what we expected: New Years eve was -apart from some fireworks- pretty much a non-event, the beach in Florionapolis nothing special and the sea too cold. We did not even get that much rest, due to the suffocating heat, itchy mosquito bites and noise (situation still the same). It is not all that negative of course. It was good to finally do a little reading, there is proper coffee here, not Nescafe (but now tea is a difficult product) and to confirm a cliché: the people are beautiful here. The women are very expressive and the men have a beautiful skin colour and generally are really fit (I am however keeping my distance, as nao is not easily taken as an answer).

Brazil is huge. Bigger than Europe. To get to the rainforest in the north, we had to fly. We flew from Sao Paolo and made a stopover there for a day. Still dazed of the nightbus, we were lucky enough to meet Lilian there, who took us around the town with her two small children by car. Sao Paolo has more inhabitants than the whole of the Netherlands and is, to say it simply: ugly. High buildings seemed to be planted all over the place, without any clear planning. Some streets are ´good´streets, but the next street is dangerous.

On the way to the airport we meet Dave, a loud Australian, who we would be seeing for the next 10 days. We arrive in the middle of the night in Manaus. Dave gets a free ride to his hostel, but they don’t want to take us. Some guy offers to bring us for less than a taxi. Sylvia bargains it down. He doesn’t bring us to the hostel we requested (´full´) and tries to sell us his jungle tours. We are so tired, we decide just to go to bed. I am still combing my hair the next morning, when this guy stands in front of my nose again, trying to make me buy his tour. If you want to get on my nerves, this is the perfect way how.
We notice this later too: once you show some kind of interest, they keep following you around, hardly giving you any space to move elsewhere.
We leave the hotel and go to the hostel of our choice, which of course has plenty of room.
We do our own little research and then pick one tour. It feels a bit like going on a Disney trip (not that I have ever done that). Luckily my nerves are good for something; we discover that the guy from the airport is a scam artist.
Excursions are expensive, so again, we bargain. Bargaining seems to work most of the time in Brazil. Sylvia has understood the trick. It is called patience. If you wait and ask long enough, they will lower the price. They don’t seem to mind spending that much extra time on one client. Instead of having a good tourist infrastructure, people just seem to be busy to get money out of individual tourists. Everywhere we go we find that everyone has paid a different price, both locals and tourists. It makes it hard to understand what we are supposed to pay and to trust anyone. What we have seen in other South-American countries seems to be valid here even more: no long-term thinking, only looking at short-term gain. Or as another tourist phrased it: "Brazil is the country of the future and always will be."

At night someone shows us the synagogue. We are surprised to find one, at the edge of the jungle. There are about 150 Jews left, who at first came here because of the rubber trade (which later moved to Malaysia and Indonesia, but the tree is still called Hevea brasiliensis).

It is odd that almost 20 years ago I collected signatures in order to protect the tropical rainforest. I had no clue that it was a possibility to actually go there. It is still very much under threat; farmers, soja plantations, log companies. I don’t know how much harm our presence does.

We travel with the loud Ozzie, three silly Swiss girls and one decent German about four hours by bus, boat, jeep and by boat again to get to the jungle lodge. You know, the kind of place where you find a frog on the toilet seat (gesproken over kikker in je bil). The next four days we are kept busy with a walk through the forest, caiman spotting, eating a lot of fish, piranha fishing (and swimming in between them), chatting and playing cards with people from all over the world, sleeping in the jungle in a hammock, watching rubber making from the tree and visiting natives. And getting constantly soaking wet, because of the rain. The Tropical rainforest consists of many rivers and many trees and (medicinal) plants, so we spend a big amount of time in a little boat (which of course had no life jackets *see comment). We didn’t see many animals, which was disappointing.
In the end it is all in the name: lots of rain and lots of forest.

Four days in the jungle and four days on a boat kept me away from the computer. Feeling not so well now, must´ve caught something.
Hope to update soon!

ANY QUESTIONS?

WE CAN´T KEEP UP WITH OUR OWN PACE (S. de Jong)

It took us twelve hours to get to the end of the world. OK, technically Ushuaia is not the most southern point of the world. Cape Horn is. Or rather Antarctica, but hey the boats were full (and at least 2000 dollars).
Things you do at the end of the world are hiking up a mountain and visit the national park and marvel about the late hour it gets dark, and not even that dark.
We stayed in a place that was a lot like other places we have stayed in: cheap, old rooms, just about clean bathrooms and uncosy kitchens. We never really feel at home in those places, but most people who are staying there actually live there. Which gives us the chance to inquire about their lifestyle and politics. Argentineans love talking and are more than happy to give their opinions. So while a man was cutting up a whole lamb with a big Swiss knife he explained to us (again) that Chileans were no good. Great deal has to do with them supporting England during the Falkland war (Las islas Malvinas, 1982). He also emphasized that Chile was the only country in South America where half of the population would spill tears over a deceased dictator.
We then moved on to Fidel Castro, who is not considered negatively as by the western world. "In a country that only produces sugar, cigars and rum and that has an American embargo running against it, most people still have enough to eat and free health care, that is quite an accomplishment." Is Castro still alive by the way? Heard Hussein isn´t.
While we were at it, we continued discussing other leaders.
Chavez, the just reelected president of Venezuela gets great support. He resists foreign - mainly American- economical power and tries to nationalise enterprises. He also wants the South American countries to work together. The expectations are high, as he as well promised to reduce poverty. I can understand the support, he seems to put words into action but his approach towards foreign affairs worry me a little. His phrasing towards the US are never moderate (apparently to do with his kidnapping by the CIA in 2001) and he is good friends with madman Ahmadinejad of Iran and has called back his ambassador in Israel. Just from a pragmatic point of view it might not that smart; There is an enormous amount of Israeli backpackers in South America and tourism is big source of income.
Practically all Israelis leave to travel for about six to twelve months, after being 2-3 years in the army, or longer. Many hostels here have Hebrew writing. Most of the Israelis leave alone and meet their compatriots here. We have stayed in places where we were the only ones who did not come from the Middle East. We have tried to make some contact, but they seem to be mainly focused on other Hebrew speakers, even if we have been playing card games on a few occasions and invited to a BBQ. Even though I am familiar with a lot of aspects of Israel, it is different talking to an F16 pilot who flew over Lebanon or hear a girl of Russian descent talk about minorities.

We left the end of the world behind to go into Chile again, to their most well known natural park, Torres del Paine. A day of preparation in which we hired a tent, a stove and other camping gear and collected food for four days (I baked about 20 pancakes that days.Yes I am crazy).
We walked seven hours a day up and down steep paths, most of the time with our backpacks on. We saw blue-green lakes, white glaciers, brown mountains, green fields and grey rocks. The weather was windy, rainy, even snowy, bearable though, but at night we had trouble sleeping, because of the cold. The last day we climbed our way up over rocks to reach the top, to see the Torres (three mountaintops). The first thing I saw however was a girl who said in Dutch to me: "I know you". Turned out to be an ex-colleague from my early student years (NIW redactie). How is that?

No rest after that. The next day we took the bus to El Calafate to admire an impressive and huge glacier (a long-lasting river of ice and snow) in the cold rain. It was Christmas, but luckily here they don´t seem to be going crazy about it, so we just had a quiet evening and then it was over. We had two days left before our flight to Buenos Aires, so we went to yet another national park, this time in Argentina, Fitzroy. More hiking there and then off to the capital again!

We were done with the cold, in Buenos Aires it was at least 30 degrees Celsius and we knew this was going to be the coolest place for a long time...
We saw a few people we had met during our first weeks of travelling and we came to a Tango class with Pato. To my surprise I enjoyed it a lot! Yet another career option opens up...

As we never rest, but just go on and on we are now in Iguassu, the broadest waterfall range in the world. Impressive is most definitely the word for it. Hard to grasp such natural beauty. It is very hot and sticky here. As we are nearing the Tropical forest now it is very green, the insects and lizards are bigger, mosquito bites higher in number and the butterflies more colourful (small wingy portions of magic)..

We were supposed to celebrate New Years´ Eve on the beach in Brazil, but we couldn't make the bus by one hour. Too bad. Not sure what we will be doing tonight, certainly we will cross the border and go to the Brazilian side (Foz do Iguazu) and see what happens there. We have no clue what Brazil will be like, exotic and dangerous is what we expect.
We are tired. Very tired. We have the intention to take it slower and have more fun from now on....hope you do the same, cheers!

HOY ES HOY Y AYER SE FUE NO HAY DUDA (Neruda)

We are growing a tiredness of buses. It seems like we are either sitting in a bus for at least six hours or hiking for six hours.
What we do with the rest of the time?
We look for a place to sleep, collect food, try to gather information and talk to strangers.

We are now half way on our trip. We still have two months and one week left, but it feels like we are running out of time. We have crossed most of Chile, but there is still so much left to do.
The south couldn´t be more different from the north. In the north the view was invariably dry desert, while here it rains a lot, is therefor very green and has many lakes.
Our favourite spot so far was Pucon, where we stayed in a lovely hostel ran by a Dutch guy.
We climbed up a volcano. Dressed in hired trousers, jackets, sunglasses and a helmet (yes I looked very sexy) we struggled 4-5 hours through the snow. I don´t think our guide thought we would make it, as the only thing that came out of his mouth was: ' vamos chicas' . Of course we made it up to the crater.
Going back we sat down on our behind and slided down the steep slopes. You should try to scream (scary) and laugh (funny) at the same time...not easy!

oh, and yes! We saw penguins..OK, I wasn´t able to converse properly with them, as they were on a rock and I in a rubber boat, but it was worth it!

Summer is approaching. We are travelling in the direction of Antarctica, so it is COLD! We also notice summer is on its way as buses and hostels are fully booked at times now. But that is not always bad. We were stuck here (Punta Arenas) for a day, with not much to do, but it was nice to just relax and watch TV for once and not constantly being on a hike or planning ahead..

The big news is of course the death of Pinochet. We don´t notice much, except for a few communists on the square. It all seems to be happening in Santiago. What we did notice, is that the papers don´t seem to refer to him as ´ex dictator´ as I am sure the European press does. Let´s just hope they won´t stop the investigations.

WE WISH YOU ALL HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!

Hag Sameach, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!

MAY THE NEW YEAR GIVE YOU COURAGE TO PURSUE YOUR DREAMS
AND GIVE YOU MANY OPPORTUNITIES TO FIND

LOVE & LAUGHTER

Love,

Rosella and Sylvia

Hey, Free internet in some hostels (Pucon, Bariloche), so I have been able to upload the pictures of our visit to New York, two months ago already!
Now I better get moving,we need to hitchhike to Chiloe,Chile today..

ONLY HE THAT HAS TRAVELED THE ROAD KNOWS WHERE THE HOLES ARE DEEP (Chinese proverb)

There we are. Santiago, capital of Chile,where the gap in the ozone layer is the most apparent. It doesn´t offer that much, so I am taking my time to write. We are staying at a friend of a friends´house and that is quite relaxing, for a change. It was about 40 hours to get here by bus from La Paz (with a few stopovers in the middle, like a visit to an observatory. Chile has plenty of desert and many observatories, the biggest in the world even, where my friend Jaron is currently working!)

La Paz is what it promised to be: chaotic. The capital of Bolivia, the highest in the world, is not a pretty town, but it is a pleasure to walk in. Half of it is an open air market and we wandered hours through the streets of it.

But first things first. After half a day of hearing the bus was surely going to come the next hour, we went to another town to catch it there. There we bought tickets for the 11 am bus the next day. It did of course arrive at 14:30. Luckily we were kept company by Tess and Anthony from Sheffield who had had the same crazy plan as us. In Santa Maria we had to catch the bus to Santa Teresa, which only came at 4 o´clock at night. Exhausted, but happy, we finally set off towards Machu Picchu. Three hours of walking in the mountains and 3 hours of following the train tracks (mainly looking down to step on the beams). We could feel we were already in the tropical rainforest; the weather was sticky and we were surrounded by palm trees. At arrival Sylvia and me did apparently not feel tired enough and we climbed a steep mountain. We almost reached the top after 1hour and 45 minutes, but we needed to turn back, as it would be too dangerous to return in the dark. A beautiful view, but no glance at the site from another angle...
The next day we got up at 5 to climb MP. It normally takes about an hour 15mins., but I was so tired and had not properly recovered from a nasty migraine a few days before, I could hardly climb the stairs and it took us many hours to arrive.
So...what is MP? It is the biggest site where Inca ruins were found. What makes it special is the spectacular view. It lies on a mountaintop, surrounded by high peaks. We stayed there all day and were the last to leave, seeing Lamas and vicuñas (by now we know they are not all lamas, there are also alpacas and vicuñas). We are still scared of their big teeth and their fame for spitting at people.

The way back went a lot faster...we just had to walk a few hours on the rails (Tessa and Anthony had given up by then and bought a train ticket) and after that we got a lift on the back of a truck.
Back in Cusco we tried out the nightlife. This part of tourism is fairly new to us. There are pubs and clubs that are just filled with tourists. As our days are long and active and the alarm clock going off at 6 is no exception anymore, we often don´t make it into the night..We had fun, but in all honesty going out with my mates in London is more enjoyable and the salsa level in Amsterdam is def. higher! This to my surprise, as all you ever hear in Peru is traditional love songs and salsa..

Oh and let me mention I had my stage debut in Peru. We went to a touristy folk dance show and I was (un) lucky enough to be picked out at the very end to dance with a guy. I am contemplating now whether to take this career further or not.

To conclude our stay in Peru we went to Lake Titicaca, the biggest in the world above 2000 meters. We visited the Islas Flotantes. 35 tiny islands, made of reed that grows in the lake. Also the small houses and boats are made of it as well. Overly touristy, but peculiar and springy.

The Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca was more beautiful and we spend time on the Isla del Sol with David and Petra, a Brazilian couple from Sao Paolo we had met on one of our long hikes and with whom we travelled to La Paz.

In short: of what we have seen of Bolivia and Peru was very beautiful. The food in Bolivia is better and the people are friendlier. Even when you are innocently playing with kids in the street in Peru they will ask for money and if you don´t give any, they´ll lose interest. Bargaining was always a necessity (I left that to Sylvia), as we were always charged double the regular price. It is not a nice feeling and at one point made me lose my temper (it did help). Having said that, it is ambiguous. We do have a lot more money to spend than they have. The prices are cheap. The kids are an important source of income.

Going from the poorest to the richest country in South America is interesting. It feels a lot like Europe here, in Chile. They also look like Europeans. We have been walking around in awe in the huge supermarkets with many different brands, enjoyed the fact you know hot water will come out of your shower and that toilet paper was a given.
Chileans don´t seem to be too loved by their neighbouring countries; The Argentineans we met called them ´cold´ (and the Chileans call them arrogant) and the Peruvians (our campaining friends told us) feel robbed by them. Apparently the Chileans more or less own the mines in Peru, but don´t pay taxes over it, Pisco sour is known as a Chilean drink, but in truth it is Peruvian and the train to Machu Picchu is owned by Chileans, who charge ridiculous prices for it. The village of Santa Teresa is putting money together to build a bridge, so they can break the monopoly and have their own bus going there, so they can earn some money on tourists as well..

My impression: so far Chileans have been charming with us!

LAS GRINGAS a PERU

It is outrageous, but we are not sticking to our Travel plans.
It all went fine. We found ourselves slightly ahead of schedule in Chile.
Pedro de Atacama has the driest desert in the world (or at least that is what they claimed and why there was no water at night) and Arica is not a beautiful town, but it was good. We somehow relax a lot more in the city than in the country side, as there there is so much to see and do; horseback riding, excursions, mountain biking, ruins to see..
But yet again we queued for another stamp in our passports. We find ourselves in Peru this time. What can we say...it was just too close to the border of Chile not to go.

In Arequipa we visited an Inca Mummy. Small, hard to see and ugly, but I found it all pretty exciting. Peru has a lot to offer. It is mainly based on Inca history.
The Inca Empire was the largest empire in Pre-Columbian America, but in truth only lasted about a century, from 1438 to 1533. The Spaniards, with conquistador Francisco Pizarro as its leader ended it all, destroying as much as they could and introducing the Spanish language and the Catholic religion. The language, Quechua and worship of Mother Earth, Pachamama are still in use (which does not seem to stop anyone from throwing rubbish in the streets and nature).

We have visited many ruins already, most of them found high in the mountains.
Which makes me wonder if it is altitude and tiredness, or that I am just unfit, as the walks take us a long time! Most of the ruins are ascribed as ´temples´ or as ´places of worship´. Not that much is known about their daily lives, as they did not have any writing. Most of what is known comes from Spanish journals.
The capital of the Inca Empire was Cuzco, which means ´navel of the earth´. It is named ´the most beautiful city of South America´. And it is in fact beautiful, even if it does not live up to the level of Rome or Amsterdam. All they live of nowadays is tourism. It does drive us crazy at times, as every five minutes there we are approached to buy necklaces, eat in their restaurant, join one of their excursions or pay for a photo of a traditionally dressed lady with a lama , which we have both seen in the wild. It seems to be stamped on our foreheads: Gringas.

We are now in a small town, we got stranded here, waiting all day for a bus. Tomorrow we will resume our journey, on our way to Machu Picchu. Peru is cheap, but excursions are very expensive, so we decided to walk the six hours to Aguas Callientes (Machu Picchu village) and do it ourselves...I will let you know how that will work out!

JUST ONE DAY OUT OF LIFE ( (Bray / Madonna)

04:30 AM. Alarm clock goes off. We need to leave, but the hotel owner says he has no change, even though we warned him beforehand. We feel tricked. Sylvia runs through half of Arequipa and comes back with the change and we can catch a bus to Chivay, in the Cañon del Colca . The panorama on the journey is rather boring, very dry and we go so high we see snow from the window.
Once we get off the bus we are surrounded by three different hotel owners who try to lure us to their hotel. We pick one. There we chat a bit with a girl who works there. She tells us a lot tourist come there, pay a kind of entrance fee (Boleto turistico), but the community never sees anything of it.
We hike to the next village: Yanque. It is the kind of mountain road where you bump into lamas, donkeys, bulls, horse, sheep and traditionally dressed women. While it is getting dark we arrive at the local openair swimming pool, which consists of natural hot thermal water. We shiver, because of the cold, but we do get in. At first we are a bit careful, as we only see boys, but they turn out to be lovely, as they walk us back in to the village in the dark and make sure we get into a cab. Of course this cab is overfull. We sit in the hood of the car. Since we are tourists the driver does not let anyone else in the hood...lucky hey!


The alarmclock is again set for 4 o´clock, as we are taking the 5 o´clock bus to spot condors. How much fun is that! After hours and hours of waiting I see about two, but too far away for a picture. We decide to walk to the next village. After an hour a pick up truck stops asking if we want a lift, it is still hours away to the next village. We get in -no need to say it was overfull. It is an interesting bunch. Regional elections are coming up and the are campaigning for the National party. The national party being left wing. It is unclear what they really stand for; equality, more democracy..well...Their main aim seems to be end of corruption and better care for tourists. Better care for tourists seems to mean paving more roads and lower prices for us. The driver tells us Peru is the fourth richest country when it comes to natural resources. I ask what is done for the locals that don´t live in touristy areas.I ask him if he doesn´t find it sad that in spite of that their whole economy drives on tourism. He does not understand my questions. We spend the rest of the day with them, visiting many small villages, to just arrive in time to catch the smelly nightbus to Cuzco.

Around San Pedro de Atacama, Chile.
Click on picture to enlarge.