Lambeyque, Peru

so the next day i did end up taking a car to the next city, squished door to door with people, where i was able to catch a bus right away to piura. my first impression of it was, chaos. am i in china? the road is clogged with rumbling mototaxis (which are like motorcycles with a carriage attached to the back) and yellow taxi cabs, black bus fumes, and so so many people. honestly, its only every fifth car you see on the street that isnt a taxi.
this part of peru and i think most of the coast? is desert, so i had not seen anything quite like this in ecuador.
i only spent a night in piura, since its more of a transportation centre than a place with anything of interest, and yesterday arrived in chiclayo. my impression of chiclayo, judging from my balcony view, was, wow. ive never seen so much brick. but the big bubbling towers of the several colonial churches and cathedrals give it some character.
i am relieved to be sleeping in noninfested bed sheets in a room with a bathroom. (though no toilet paper leaves me regretting i didnt listen to the advice in the book to bring my own) and no towel means when i do shower (which is usually only a few times a week) i am drying myself off with a dress i bought in otavalo, which because of its fabric, actually works as a pretty adequate method for this purpose. but i wont be spending too much time here.

my life feels like a revolving door of restaurants and hotels
was this what i had envisioned? how could it be different? i think of eva. if she were here, now. what would she be doing? it would have to be different, i thought. this is the way my life goes. i sit on a bench in a park and what passes is only reflections of myself. an old slow moving man with a rattling cane in his hand lowers himself next to me. we are inches apart, but i am someplace else. eva. if she sat down here, i thought, birds would swoop down from heaven with a song, voices of trees would ecco her presence, she would be guided by a force that seems to allude me.
i suppose i have not yet found my way to travel. i try doing things i think im supposed to, but usually, i think, these activities only serve as a temporary illusion to enrich my experience.
for example, there are several very important museums and sites surrounding chiclayo.
so today i felt i was finally doing something i was supposed to be doing. i was proud of myself for setting an alarm and not sleeping in. i even thought to bring my dictionary with me so that i could translate some of the information at the museum. i wrote down the intersection where i would have to arrive to by taxi, and from there take a van 20 minutes to lambayeque, where i am now, to the famous museum.
there are tons of these vans that serve as shared taxis for short destinations outside the city. and they get packed . children piled on top of one another and an elbow jabbing into the sensitive spot on my arm made for kind of an awkward ride. when we arrived here i was confused, and later felt really dumb, for thinking that lambayeque was just the name of the archaeological site. its actually the name of the city, so i ended up missing the stop where i should have gotten off to see the museum, thinking maybe the site lay ahead of the city a bit. but later the lady asked me where i was going and let me off after the van looped all the way around back to the main road.

well, of course, the museum was closed because its a monday. and i knew this but i thought today was tuesday! so im thinking, maybe im just not cut out for this kind of thing. it never seems to work out when i make efforts to do these kinds of things.
am i really interested in seeing the reconstructed tomb of some famous dead guy? and viewing all the treasures that were unearthed during the discovery in glass cases? i dont know. i dont know if these things interest me.

i think what i am looking for in my travels is something sort of in between the predictable well worn tourist path, and the hours spent in solitude in musty hotel rooms, reading, thinking, writing. listening to my breathe. the fact is, i dont want to be a tourist. i still havent gotten used to all the staring. it still makes me self conscious sometimes. i dont like the label i carry here. my skin is white, and i have money. and because of this i am treated differently. even in montanita, within the circle of people i was hanging around with, i felt like they expected me to buy their jewellery, to pay for the case of beer, etc. because im foreign, and i have money. i understood this but it bugged me. i get honked at by every taxi driver that spots me, hey senorita, taxi! taxi! ughh i dont need a taxi. tour guides on the sidewalk proffering tours and thrusting out pamphlets to me as i stroll by. a woman asks me to fill out a survey titled : what is your favorite hotel in cuenca? while resting in the park. i felt annoyed.
but what can i expect? i know, i know.
so what do i really want to do here?
i think i imagined myself expanding my mind and discovering the culture and its history through relationship. by meeting local people, with stories, passionate about the literature, art, and past of the country. i imagined myself in a dark quiet bar, sipping on a beer, seated at a big wooden table, listening intently to a man who tells me how these things have shaped the psyche of the people. i imagined myself listening to performances of the andino folklorica, dancing and clapping my hands to the beat of the drum. i imagined myself in the homes of the people, being tucked in to bed by a fat latino grandmother, a part of the family. and i saw myself feeling at home somewhere, maybe working a bit in a restaurant, in a small town where i felt energized, where i would meet many people travelling with similar mentalities and intentions as my own, or ones that i could perhaps learn from.
its kind of funny to me though, the way im sort of aware that i often get two things mixed up. what it is i really want to do and what it is everyone else does.


it has been 2 months now.
i feel strong, and since the ceremony in saraguro, i have felt positive, but still attentive to my shifting states of mind and mood. i am not expectant of anything. but there is, as there always has been, even at the lowest points in my life, a sense of optimism that swirls deep in my soul. behind everything, there has always been a knowing of all things.
i will find happiness, truth, and purpose. these things will not be denied me. in a sense, all of my dreams are becoming and will become true. but it is up to me to see this, and not foolishly chase after what is already present in my life.
its difficult to see this knowing, as it is invisible and often only detectable after it has been filtered through the gates of the conscious mind, but i can feel it. and it is difficult to see which beliefs, which while may be rooted in this eternal knowing, have been distorted at the surface, at eye level, by limited vision.
sometimes my mind frantically jumps around, thinking something is missing in this moment. it lunges forward, thinking the answer lies ahead of me in time. but i sense this and i try to bring it all together into one point that is now. whatever i become, whatever i want to become, i already am now. whatever i wish to happen in my life, is already happening now.

and sometimes i know i believe that. and sometimes i feel like i dont.