Paracas, Peru

this is my second day here in paracas, a very very tiny town which basically only exists as a kind of tourist trap for those of us travellers seeking a boat tour of the islas ballestas, the socalled poor mans galapagos (it costs 10 dollars. a galapagos tour averages in price at 1000!) so theres a strip of overpriced seafood restaurants and hotels, a strip of artesanial shops, and a small, smelly grey beach. oh, and the dock.
the morning i left huacachina (ill go into more detail later. oh, also, this keyboard sucks and seems to be missing some punctuation, so forgive me), i was feeling a little, ok, pretty hungover, but was slowly forcing my three white breakfast buns down at the poolside restaurant/bar. a nice guy (from edmonton!) who had just arrived asked me about breakfast prices, ordered one, and then sat with me at my table. we only spoke for a little bit, but i had yet another one of those moments where i am silently uttering, thankyou. and it was so simple. i knew i was heading to pisco that day, but had only a very vague idea of what the whole islas thing was about, i wasnt even aware that paracas was a separate town, that its best to stay here, etc, so in 15 minutes i learned everything i needed to know, recieving information at the exact moment i needed it. and he told me how to find the cheapest bed. (4.50!) i am appreciative of these moments because i feel that they are more than coincidences, although it would be easy to regard them as so. its harmony!
so, my bed is part of a dorm room which is not officially part of a hostal, and there are no bathroom facilities. the owner of the hotel across the street is the brotherin law, and so i was told i could use the shower and toilet there. its a little bit of a pain, and the room itself is like a brick oven. i have not been feeling very well, (at first i thought it was just my hangover, but i was experiencing some pretty uncomfortable stomach pains later on in the day, and i think its more likely something i had eaten.) i tried laying down for a bit, but it was impossible to rest, what with the paper thin walls separating me from a group of arguing constrution workers, and my bed was on the top bunk. i was absolutely physically inactive and yet there was still sweat pouring down my face. so, ive been overall, physically quite uncomfortable for the past 2 days, and why does it seem like my scampering talkative mind is so closely correlated with nausea? there probably was something bad in my stomach, but i notice the way my body reacts to a racing mind. i think i feel a little bit overstimulated perhaps. it is easy for me to get a little over excited when my social activity reaches a high level, and i forget what is most important, and become trapped in a whirlpool of wordthoughts instead of taking even a few moments to breathe and find my peace. and i think this definitely relates to my physical state of being.
this morning i took the tour to the islands even though i wasnt feeling 100 percent, since id already paid for it the day before. i could barely enjoy it though, as i was concentrating on not throwing up.i had to breathe through my mouth because the scent mixture of gasoline and rotten fish in combination with a rocking boat doesnt do much for the nausea. never have i, and probably not you either, seen so many birds in one place. the boat cruised through the islands, which were really nothing more than big rock formations, and idled its engine at certain spots to allow us time to appreciate the animals, which were mostly different types of seabirds, colonies of them, penguins (really! penguins!) and sea lions. i have to say, sea lions are probably the absolute wierdest creatures ive ever seen. in one spot there were probably a hundred of them, like fat slugs with flippers, singing. it sounded like i was in a monestary, listening in on a symphony of monks. very cool. on the way back we also saw some dolphins, though mostly just their fins, gliding through the sea.
i havent so quickly gotten so bored like this in a beach town before, usually theyre places that i end up spending more time in than id thought. and where did all these gringos and hippies come from? it feels a little wierd seeing so many other travellers in such a small, confined spot with such a halfhearted atmosphere. because of my physical state, i havent been feeling all that friendly, so ive taken a stance of avoidance. looks like ill be all by my lonesome tomorrow, turning 21, in nazca.

alright, huacachina.
since parting with the girls in huancayo, i was feeling pretty vibrant and social, and thought id give one of these so called party hostals a try, which ive avoided in the past becuase ive figured theyre probably utilized by a lot of characters that im just not interested in meeting. huacachina is a wierd place. its similar to the way i was describing paracas, only instead of an islands tour attracting visitors, its main attraction is a small, (and artificial, i found out) dirty looking lagoon, amidst sand dunes, about 10 minutes from the city of ica. why does this place exist?? i was thinking, this is so wierd. literally, one street, lined with a bunch of hostals and touristy restaurants surrounding the lake. and a whole lot of white people, who come here to sandboard and party. the hostel was ok, very popular. i used the pool for a little one morning, and saw that not only people of my stereotyped idea existed there , but i really spent very little time there, and didnt even meet a single person.
i was sitting on a sand dune that i had scampered up my first day there, anticipating the setting of the sun, and watching some groups of friends playing and taking photos in the dunes over a little from mine. i had noticed this guy trudging through the dunes in my direction. he looked slightly ridiculous, as if he had just emmerged into civilization after being lost in the desert. with dark brown muscles shiny in the heat, he was wearing a white ripped up shirt tied over his head and face like a ninja, and was walking with a big carved cane. he was talking to a group of dogs galloping around, and i was thinking, what a nut.
well, of course this nut needed to know the time, which resulted in him asking me permission to sit with me, really stressing that he didnt want anything from me, just to talk, etc. a long relaxed conversation ensued on the peak of the dune, both of us facing the rainbowcolored sky. too go along with his movie set desert gear, he also spoke in a way which sounded a little bit too rehearsed to be real, a little like keanu reeves, and i was amused.
i liked what he was saying. still, a little bit..suspicious, but he was different. he spoke of his deep respect for mother earth, for the woman, his love for the desert, (what? this is really considered desert?) energy, thats all we are, he said, each of us like a grain of sand. alright, i thought, ill give you a chance. he showed me his little workshop, again stressing i was under no obligation, where he had some jewellery for sale. AND 3 drums. which i immediately drew a lot of attention to, and he willingly gave me a little lesson, showing me a few patterns, then leaving me to expore the rhythms for myself. i was so excited. finally, in my hands! for about a month i had been visualizing a drum in my possesion, the texture of the skin beneath my fingertips, the wood held between my thighs, the rythym, the rythym. he also showed me his diy didgerydoo (spelling?) that he was in the process of mastering, and i gave it a try. a difficult instrument, and a little awkward...but maybe later on for me. i remembered the image i had catalouged one night not long before i left. me and jessjess were passing 17th ave one night and on the corner, amongst a throng of friday night bar hoppers, was a girl blowing on a didgeridoo that definitely looked like shed made it herself, seated on a big white pail, which she was banging on like a drum. i want to do that, i thought. i want that to be me someday.
he also showed me how to make a few simple pieces of jewellery. he smoked pot and drummed while i sat at the counter, braiding and knotting long colored string to make a bracelet, occassionally turning to him for direction. im wearing it now.
i was thrilled. here i am! im doing these things! i thought about how id fantasized about becoming an artesania like those id met in montanita, making my own jewellery and travelling with it, but thinking, oh that could never happen. well, its probably not, at least not at the moment, but it felt great to be learning something new, acquiring a new skill. no, two new skills! i was a little clumsy with the drum at first, but by the end of the night i think i sounded pretty damn good for a beginner. i was told its best to buy them in cusco, because they are cheapest there, and im thinking about buying one, though it will take a lot of practice before id be comfortable drumming in earshot of other people, and it could probably be a hassle to travel with, but i know there are many who do. and its my dreeaamm.
EXCHANGE. the theme word of this month, developing stronger views. harmony. looking for those exchanges in which dont involve money. to give, and to recieve. to attract those with something i want to recieve, be attracted by those who i may give to.

ok, i need to urinate, though theres a little more to the story, and im a little sad ive just missed a really beautiful sunset being here in front of a computer screen, so ill write more tomorrow.