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Street Kings
I love dogs – and it’s a common sight to see them rule the road in excess numbers in many under-developed nations, where reproductive control is lacking. However, in Cusco the situation is slightly different. While the majority of these second citizens live in the streets, their physical heath is higher than one might expect. These canines generally sport coats that are shiny and mange-free and rarely do their ribs show. Their days aren’t typically spent browsing the local garbage sources or tailing feeding human friends, hoping to score a morsel. Nope. Instead, they live a dog’s life, lazily lounging on doorsteps or in packs on street corners. Visitors can always expect these street kings to be friendly and social and often interested in saying hello.
In Cusco, however, I get the feeling that the attitude toward domestic pets is different from my own. While the vast majority of these dogs appear to be stray, I suspect that each pup can be paired with a human companion who feed and care for them as we would expect of any other pet. Yet it looks as though these pets have more independence than our own when it comes to leashing, kenneling and monitoring in general. Possibly, this is because they possess a sub-family status or, conversely, are honored as equal citizens. In either case, this laissez-faire attitude generates a few health concerns that would alarm any American public health and safety official as I’m not sure who’s responsible for cleaning up after this wild bunch. Apparently, they haven’t figured that one out yet.
Winter Terrace
Winters deep in the belly of the sinister Yucatecan interior are brutal. Heat, humidity and direct sunlight in combination conjure a hopeless sensation that’s enough to curl the most thick-skinned in the fetal position and cry “uncle.” Urban centers like Mérida are loud, crowded and filled with more shapes, textures, movement, sounds and smells than the human psyche can be expected to be exposed to at any given time. It’s the sensation where smell is more than simply an aroma processed by tender nasal receptors. It somehow takes on whole new suffocating textural properties that are felt in the lungs, eyes and mouth. In fact, almost all of the senses contain that indescribable characteristic that is enhanced by course stucco walls, choking exhaust fumes and chalky, clay-covered cobblestone streets.
The dense jungles are no improvement on the stifling conditions. So any opportunity to stretch the neck above the suffocating steamy canopy can be like a gasp of breath reassuring that drowning isn’t inevitable. The Spanish manage to offer these moments in style. Our winter terrace in Valladolid was a lap of luxury and a journey deep into the history of the New World.
Radius Five Blocks
In recent years some attention has been given toward the ways of the Old World. Some have criticized President Obama for trying to bring the flavors and philosophies of Europe to America and others have taken offense to the offense. My neighborhood is about as close as I’ve seen to European charm in the New World’s most independent nation. Charming yes. But with all its German flavoring it is all American. Closer examination reveals brick paving in place of cobblestone, uniform rot iron fencing instead of wooden picket fences, unique Ohio fossil-infused limestone steps stoops and hitching posts and distinctly utilitarian one and a half story late Victorian cottages with slate roofs instead of Medieval half-timbered houses with red tiled roofs. My home is German Village but is one hundred percent American.
The Inca Trail
“The Inca trail had been a substantial source of intrigue for me since I first heard of the ancient pilgrim path. A trip to Peru had always been penciled-in at the top of my wish-list. It had patiently waited for a time when my adventure sensibilities had matured and I had further developed my cultural and natural daring and confidence. There it remained while those under it were gradually crossed off and removed from the list. In 2008, when I decided to examine the possibilities for visiting Machu Picchu and hiking the ancient Inca trail, I was delighted if not mildly surprised to discover that many adventurers were making the trek. It seemed safe, quite well-organized and growing exponentially in acclaim. One question lay before me; what will it take to make this dream expedition a reality?
In recent years, the popularity of the trail has risen to such a level that Peruvian authorities have had to restrict the number of hikers permitted. The trail is little more than a narrow clearing of dirt and slippery wet Inca constructed stone paths and ladder-like staircases. The one-way, one lane trail often offers insufficient room for passing. Excessive traffic could cause complications.
Treacherous hiking conditions also pose safety issues. Permits for entry to the trail can only be acquired from an accredited tour company and can only be used in the presence of a licensed guide. Ramiro, our guide, has a five-year university degree to meet his requirements. The wait for the handful of highly sought after permits was five months for us. Proof of passport and a Western Union wire-transfer later, we were booked. I felt like a child, anxiously unable to sleep on Christmas Eve, anticipating what would be found under the tree in the morning. Only I would have to manage my boyhood excitement and butterfly stomach for a full five months before I could cross the Inca trail off my list.”
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