Walk Like a Cusqueñan.

    When I arrived in Cusco I took a combi, which merits a story for itself, from the airport to what I thought was the main plaza. That day I got lost and took a much longer than necessary walk to find El Hostal Magico. I could have been really frustrating considering my pack (fortunately it isn't very heavy), all the terrible directions I was given, the shock of the altitude on my lungs, the confusing street names and the crazy traffic, not to mention my ever-increasing hunger and general plain-old-tiredness. Somehow it wasn't though. The magic of Cusco's streets had me from my first steps off that over-crowded van. By the time I made it to the hostel the spring may have faded from my step somewhat, but the smile was still firmly on my lips and heart.

Walking in Cusco is... enchanting? Is that too airy-fairy a word to use? It's the one that comes to mind. For one the streets are all cobblestone. Not just one or two for the postcard pictures. ALL of them. The sidewalks cling to the walls. The walls cling to the shoulders of your shirt or jacket. "You have wall on you," is a common remark among my friends. You know that space between sidewalks and buildings called a yard? They don't have those. Or even that little patch of grass between sidewalks and roads? They don't have those either. I know because today I got clipped by a cars side mirror. Okay, I'm not making this out to be too "enchanting" am I? But honestly, I really didn't mind the whole sideview-mirror-to-the-thigh thing...

In my neighbourhood the street dogs all have their blocks. The mean-looking little one with the squashed face guards to corner of Chaparro and Vitoque. A few, less fiercesome, ones squabble playully over the bottom of Calle Fierro. A couple of walls are held up by posts wedged into the street. Most of the walls in the area are faded and crumbling. An interesting thing about this city is that there are barely any visibly isolated buildings, just a single tall wall (stone on the bottom adobe and plaster for the upper) for each block with doors for each store or home. You get a completely different perspective when you get above street level.  In San Blas the streets climb up and up and up, providing such perspective. You can see into the separate courtyards; laundry lines, tin and clay roofs, trees... the moguls-course-like roof of the cathedral. In San Blas flowers spill over the freshly painted white and yellow walls. Pretty wrought iron designs bar the windows. Cusco spreads out below you, the view changing with every twist and turn.

The Plaza de Armas is the touristy-est place in town. Hands thrust leaflets at you from all sides: "Excuse me, lady. Massage?", "Happy hour, 9-11.", "Tourist information?". If you stand still for more than a second the vendors close in... paintings, touques, jewellry, watermelon, sunglasses. Locals and tourists alike relax around the fountain and on the cathedral steps. Come nightfall there is almost always someone thunking out a lazy rhythm on a bongo drum. The glowing Cristo Blanco watches over the city from the hilltop.

Everywhere you go, ladies with colourful bundles slung over their backs waddle along. On the corners, they stop and unbundle their loads, settling onto the paving stones to sell their cargo... They carry everything; from jewellry to choclo (and the stove to cook it on), bread to babies. The babies aren't for sale though. Sometimes I wish they were; Every baby here is gorgeous. Kids chase balloons down the street, jumping and giggling. Others sell gum and candy to passers-by, tearing my heart out each time I see one of them.

I just want to grab their hands and take them with me to Yanapay, but we are full to bursting and can´t invite any more kids. We have anout 80 coming to the schools each day.

An update on my volunteering at Aldea Yanapay is coming up next. :)

With LOVE,

Julia