Hey, guess where I am. Betcha can’t guess. Okay I’m obnoxious. After 12 hours of navigating the airplane world I am in Cuzco. I’m already a bad blogger as I haven’t taken any pictures. So if you’re here just to see pictures of Cuzco, you’ll be disappointed and you should leave now. I promise I’ll be better in the future.
Already in the U.S., waiting for my flight, Spanish was the main language. Felt weird. I didn’t know whether to say “Hello” or “Hola.” Did I want to get my last bit of English in, or did I want to start practicing Spanish? So there’s a woman, 2 people in front of me with an open backpack. I decide to show off my Spanish. After double-checking the word for backpack was “mochilla” I lightly tap her shoulder.
She turns to me.
“Su mo- mo-” the Spanish word got stuck in my English mouth. She looks at me like I’m an idiot. Finally I spit it out. “Su mochilla es abierto.” (For any of you Spanish speaking grammar nuts…Amelia…I know, should have used esta…WHATEVER)
“Huh?” Her face a mask of total confusion.
Luckily the woman in front of me, a wonderful person named Helen, said, “You’re backpack is open.”
Languages 1 Tahlia 0 Oops
Helen assured me my Spanish was actually quite good and we got talking. She is from Bolivia, lives in the U.S. now with her intermediate family and they were all going to Bolivia to visit their extended family. She had visited China, Israel, Jordan and possibly either Korea or Thailand. It sounded like she may have traveled with a missionary group. My cousin did or sometimes still does that and she’s an annoying pain in the a**. Awkward.
Shout out to Rosie for helping to convince me to bring a fanny pack. It made life easier already with the airport being hot and in Lima it was sweltering. It was humid and hot like Florida.
But on the plane I sat next to a guy named Tomaco. Only guy named Tomaco in the U.S. apparently. He was from Lima and currently lives in Queens. Seemed to have a son waiting to decide on colleges. In case he applied and got accepted to Geneseo, I put in a good word. He spoke fluent Spanish and English so we kept switching between the two. As we got closer to Lima, he convinced me to use as much Spanish as possible and he helped me fill out my forms. YAY! (They’re very unclear with what they’re asking for. Stupid government)
Other people whom I met was a cuteish guy from Lima also. I was still bouncing between English and Spanish and didn’t know how to address anyone. I was a total ditz!! He didn’t seem to mind. Before I had to think of more things to say in Spanish, I fled. Also there was a group of old British people, from London specifically going to Macchu Piccu on a group tour around South America. Lovely people. I love accents so I couldn’t help but start talking when I heard them conversing in English.
Now the reason that you all should yell at me. After meeting my host family and resting a bit, writing a bit, I went to an open market. It was really different. Think of a farmers market, set in a dirt field, lots of homeless dogs walking around (I WANTED TO PLAY WITH THEM SO BADLY) and fruits you don’t even know what they are. Everyone either has a colorful canvas shopping bag or onr of those colorful sacs that you hoist onto your shoulders. My host mother bought me a fruit called Tuna. I swear, it’s a fruit. It was nice a juicy, like a combination of an apricot and orange, but was crunchy because of the seeds.
Well I’m going dancing tonight. Uh oh. They actually dance down here. Hooray for making a fool of myself.
P.S. Still in love with the rugby jacket. It’s perfect ❤