Machu Picchu, Purell and Guinea Pig Consumption

Sitting in the Lima airport in Peru, I am about to journey to Buenos Aires. And yes, i am still wearing the same clothes as the last time i wrote a blog (almost a week ago), which, for you careful readers out there, are the same clothes that begun this trip even longer ago. However, please don´t despair, as i am actually in a rather good mood and, now equipped with replacement underwear and socks, am only marginally hygiene-compromised.

Although my luggage is still not in my possession (we are now at day 10 since i last saw it), the future looks promising as the airline just located it in Paraguay. Incidentally, as I have experienced first-hand and have never fully appreciated before, Paraguay is, in fact, not Peru. Therefore, using the powers of logic and a derivative of the substitution property (if A=B and B=C, then A=C), we can conclude that my luggage is, in fact, not in the same country as me. That said, it IS in the same continent and has been physically located, so we are making HUGE progress (e.g. versus being on hold for 20 minutes at $2 per minute before slamming down phone in frustration marked by dramatic verbal obscenities). I was confidently assured by an airline representative who i will never see again that a happy reunion awaits me and my luggage in the next 24 hours, appropriately, in the land of the romantic tango.

More reason for good mood you ask? Well, I just completed a fantastic trek across the Peruvian countryside ending up in the amazing Inca city of Machu Picchu (home of the 3-time Peruvian national championship basketball team, "The Fighting Condors"). I was joined on the trek by three other Americans who even forgave me for the occassional unholstering of my mobile phone and blackberry "just to see if i have a signal".

Using our keen senses and sharp intellects, the four of us came to realize the following important take-aways: 1. ascending mountains at high altitudes is exhausting, 2. descending mountains from high altitudes is exhausting 3. camping on the top of mountains at high altitudes is, believe it or not, COLD and 4. proper bathroom facilities and the magic of Purell anti-septic hand sanitizer gel can be the source of great power, prestige and envy.

I was at first nervous about my clothing situation for the trek given the promises of the bitter cold. But, with some borrowed jackets, a few key purchases (e.g. a bright yellow t-shirt to replace my normal yellow Carleton t-shirt, a handful of safety pins, and, of course, my invaluable and highly revered "stripper" boxer briefs) i was fitted for survival.

In addition to the difficulties of trying to inhale oxygen at 4600 meters while trying to keep up with our guide´s brisk pace, i found the biggest challenge of the trek to be navigating the logistics of using a rather unpleasant outhouse. With already tired leg muscles not well suited for the necessary squatting position, i precariously hovered over my target below me, with one arm trying desperately to find a secure and clean achor hold against the wall while i simultaneously had to fend off the combination of open safety pins attached to my fly and a young local boy amusing himself by banging on the door and trying to enter the outhouse. Upon discovering a neighboring campsite proprietor whose facility included a toilet (albeit without running water), our group soon befriended this man of great local envy.

Although the great mysteries of Machu Picchu impressed us (e.g. who were the people who lived in this majestic place? Why did they disappear so suddenly? And why did they trade their 2nd round draft pick for that slow center with the bad knee?), we were most intrigued by a more practical question, "how many guinea pigs do you have to eat to get full?". Upon taking a lunch break by a local hut that had an about a dozen squeeking and whistling guinea pigs, we were able to calculate an answer... After we noticed a combination of a the large cooking fire, cooking utensils and the gradual fading of guinea pig squeeks, one of my fellow trekkers, a vegetarian named Gisselle, cleverly entered the hut, feigning interest in purchasing a chocolate bar from their next door confectionary stand labeled "kiosk and shopping center". Although quickly escorted out of the hut, Gisselle was able to count a total of 3 remaining guinea pigs and noticed "meat-like" substance on the plates of the 3 people inside. And with that, we come to our final estimate of 3 guinea pigs per person...