Cusco to Machu Picchu

The ultimate objective for my trip to Peru was to get to Machu Picchu. Thus, Lima was just a detour before heading to Cusco, Peru and eventually Aguas Calientes via a four hour train ride on Peru Rail. All of these logistical costs were arranged and reserved prior to travel, with the exception of our actual entrance tickets to Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu. These tickets, which cost about $150 each, are only purchasable either at the Ministerio de Cultura offices, located in Cusco and Aguas Calientes, or the Peruvian government website. The website at the time could not be accessed in the United States due to payment fraud and terrorist financing activities. Therefore, my sole responsibility while in Bogota was to purchase these tickets.

Traditional Peruvian clothing

About two weeks before leaving Bogota, I went onto the Peruvian government website, reserved the tickets to Machu Picchu park, as well as the tickets to Huayna Picchu, which is the large, intimidating mountain in the background of all famous Machu Picchu pictures. After reserving the tickets, there is a payment area on the website. You are required to enter your reservation code and purchase tickets within six days of your initial reservation. Just to be on the safe side, I decided to buy the tickets right after I made the reservation. I put in my code for the Macchu Picchu tickets and proceeded to enter my payment information. For Machu Picchu park entrance, including museum entrance, the cost is $152 per person (excluding museum access, the cost for a single adult entrance ticket is $150). For a pass to climb Huayna Picchu, at either 7-8am, or 10-11 am, the cost is $150 per person. Once I put in my code, I was taken to another page where it asked for my credit card information and upon entering it, I was taken to the next screen which appeared to be this confirmation. I wrote down the code. However, after a few days went buy I realized the money was never taken from my account. Therefore, as soon as we arrived in Cusco on the Monday, the 19th, we checked into our hotel called El Virrey, and inquired with our hotel clerk. She said we would have to go the the Ministerio de Cultura office, as she did not see a record attached to the confirmation number I was given. This made me very nervous because Machu Picchu park only allows 1,600 visitors per day and Huayna Picchu limits the access to 200 per time slot, which is only 400 people per day. We were leaving the next morning for Machu Picchu and still did not have tickets after many fruitful attempts.

Plaza de Armas

After leaving our hotel, we grabbed a quick bite overlooking the Plaza de Armas. We later jumped in a cab, which is very easy to do in Cusco since they are all over, and headed to the cultural center. I was helped by a clerk right when I entered and she told me that there was no reservation under my confirmation number, name, or passport despite the confirmation code I was given. She listened to my story regarding my failed attempts to buy in Colombia and got her supervisor to help. The supervisor told us that we could purchase entrance tickets to Machu Picchu park the following day (we were to arrive there around 1 PM) as the 1,600 maximum capacity  had not yet been reached. However, she stated that the Huayna Picchu tickets were at capacity for both time slots that were available. As mentioned, only 200 people are allowed in each time slot. From there, my negotiation tactics, persistence, and years of fake crying experience ensued. I showed my confirmation, explained the many difficulties we experienced, told the supervisor that we only had one day to go, sobbed about the fact we travelled from the United States with the goal of climbing Huayna Picchu, and tried many other tactics, many of which I am not going to share. She told me there was nothing they could do but that I could come back at 6 pm, before closing, to see if any of the reservations didn't come by to pick up their tickets.

Centro Artesanal Cusco

I left the cultural center feeling very deflated. I felt like I failed The Don, as he had planned every flight and hotel and my only duty was to book these tickets. We left silently, both secretly hoping that we would get lucky. From there, I spent entirely too much money buying Peruvian traditional artwork, clothing, and souvenirs at a large, indoor shopping district called Centro Artesanal Cusco that had hundreds of individual stands or stalls set up for each artist. This shopping center was the Plaza de San Blas or Plaza of Armas, where most of the touristy shops were overpriced and overpopulated. Centro Artesanal Cusco, located at the end of Avenida El Sol, across from the large painted waterfall fountain and the Hotel Savoy, is the largest indoor market of handicrafts stalls in Cusco, and many goods are slightly cheaper than they are closer to the plaza. I spent over 3 hours and an unknown amount of money buying gifts here before grabbing a cab back to the cultural center.

When we got back to the center, the woman working told me there was still time for the unreserved tickets to be purchased and asked me to sit and wait. We hesitantly sat and watched as people trickled in, praying and practically intimidating people from purchasing last few reserved yet unpaid tickets. As each second passed, I grew more and more anxious. I thought surely one of the ten or so people that came through the doors were the owners of the tickets we so desperately sought. At 6:30 pm, not a second before closing, the supervisor nodded for me to come over to her desk. She smiled as she handed me the last tickets for Huayna Picchu on the only day we were able to go. I leaped, jumped, squealed, twirled, and screamed as I ran over to the payment counter. I also gave her a small change purse that I had just purchased at the market. We were the last ones out of the office and had been on our feet the entire day. Not only did we have the airport fiasco (outlined in my last post) but the Huanya Picchu tickets added to my general belief that nothing is certain in Peru and everything can be achieved with persistence, a few fibs, fake tears, and some Spanish speaking.


We got tickets!!!



We ended our night eating Alpaca at the Inka Grill, an upscale restaurant on the Plaza de Armas. Our train was to depart Poroy, a station twenty minutes from Cusco, at 8:30 am. The ticket said that we needed to be there 30 minutes prior to departure and we were only allowed to bring a bag that weighed less than 5 kilograms, or about 10 lbs! As such, we repacked our bags into smaller backpacks, checked our suitcases, and left the hotel before 7 am to insure we got there by 8. Turns out, the Poroy station is actually only 15 minutes from Cusco (not 30-40 minutes as quoted at the Peru Rail office). Since we got there so early, we asked our cab driver if he knew where we could eat a bite before catching out train. He drove us up to a home on the side of the train station which was attached to a "restaurant". As we walked in, a pregnant very sick looking dog greeted us, along with a young mother, and her even younger daughter. They only served one dish at this restaurant. I am still not sure what it was. It appeared to be soup with a full bird floating in it. I asked if it was chicken and the young girl said no. I didn't want to offend the kind family that brought us the only item on the menu, so I decided I would put my stomach in jeopardy. However, I must say, this was exactly the type of food and restaurant that your doctor warns you about. I was almost certain I would get some form of food poisoning and/or stomach virus. The Don adamantly refused to eat and continually warned me that I would get sick. I had a few sips of the broth, and flung most of the large, foreign bird floating in it at the pregnant dog staring up at me. We left shortly there after.



Food poisoning before 8 am



Pregant pup



  

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

Jerk found food!

As soon as we arrived at the Peru Rail station, a large, modern cafe stared at us with croissants, fresh lattes, fruit, refrigerators stocked with drinks, counter tops full of snacks, and even gum. The Don found great joy in that. Jerk. Also, we noticed that 90% of the passengers had not yet arrived even though we were strictly warned to be there by 8. Lastly, as people trickled in, we realized no one else heard of the weight limitation as they pulled their gigantic suitcases behind them. Travel Tip: For any of you going to Machu Picchu on Peru Rail, you do not need to be there thirty minutes before departure, can purchase food at the train stations, and your bags do not need to be under a certain weight, as specified on the ticket.

We left the train station on time, at 8:30 am, seating in the first train (train A) in seats A7 and A8. These were great seats but the best on the entire train were A1 and A2. I am not sure if these can be reserved in advance since we were not given the option to select seats, but if you are taking the train, try to push for these seats. They were at the very front of the train, were surrounded by windows, and had a completely clear, unobstructed view of the journey. The train ride was a highlight of my trip from Cusco to Machu Picchu. Seeing the Peruvian country side from this vantage point gave me an unique view of the country, its inhabitants, and the terrain. I was also able to take a lot of pictures.

Once we began following a river between large mountains, I knew we were getting close to Aguas Calientes, the small town next to Machu Picchu, home to most of the hotels in the area, with the exception of a swanky hotel that is outside the park entrance and costs $1000/night. We arrived at 12 pm, dropped off our bags, and headed to the bus station, ready to head up to Machu Picchu park. What unfolded over the next two days in Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu were no short of life-changing and I am fairly certain I will forever be a different person because of them. My next entry will discuss in depth some of the highlights of my experience at Machu Picchu. Stay tuned....

Peru, Nice to Meet You!

I am fairly certain that my level of depression would have prevented me from leaving Colombia had I not been looking forward to my next stop: Peru.

My flight departed Bogota around 1:30 pm on Sunday. I arrived in Lima at 4:30 after a three hour flight and was greeted by my friend, Don (most commonly known as "The Don"). The Don is a very close friend of my cousin, Dave, and I have known him for most of my life. As a result, he is a bit of a big cousin to me. The Don is originally from Pittsburgh (go Steelers!), currently lives in Ohio, and has never been to South America. He arrived on Saturday, a day before me, and was eager to pick me up at the airport. I am quite certain his excitement was in part attributed to my Spanish speaking ability. From the airport, we took a cab to our hotel for the night, Hotel Kamana. We were only staying in Lima for one night before leaving to Cusco the following morning. Therefore, we chose this hotel because it was inexpensive, 15 minutes from the airport, and located in the Historic Centre of Lima. Turns out, besides saving some money, we were given the opportunity to really get a glimpse of a typical Sunday night among the Peruvian population. The Centre of Lima and its surrounding sites are far from touristy. We were probably the only Americans, Europeans, or other gringos for miles. Therefore, our stay in the Historic Centre of Lima gave us a unique view of  Peruvian life.

Upon dropping off my bag, we ventured into the jam packed streets which were overflowing with people, mostly babies. It seemed like every other person was under the age of five and each family had at least three children. This was a major culture shock coming from Bogota. I figured both these enormous Latin American, capital cities would have something in common besides the langage, but that was far from the case. The Peruvian population is far more indigenous than Colombians. I do not mean 'indigenous' in a derogatory or negative way (see footnote). What I mean by the word 'indigenous' is that their features have far less of a European influence, as opposed to Colombians who wore very modern clothing, were taller, and had a flare for dyed hair, new styles, and familiar appearance. In Peru, you could see the artisan influence in their bright, woven clothing, and their strong heritage with very dark features and short statue. In other words, an outsider would likely confuse a Colombian as European or American, which is not the case with Peruvians, as their heritage was very apparent in their clothing, appearance, and features.



Categral de Lima en Plaza Major

After wandering around we stumbled upon the Plaza Mayor, or Plaza de Armas of Lima, which is the birthplace of the city of Lima, as well as the core of the city. This plaza is very large and is surrounded by various historical landmarks including the Government Palace, Cathedral of Lima, Archbishop's Palace of Lima, the Municipal Palace, and the Palace of the Union. At the time, I was only able to identify the Cathedral of Lima and the Government Palace, as it was ssurrounded by military guards and even a tank. Lima is similar to every other Latin American city as it has a main plaza which contains the main cathedral. If you are ever lost in Latin America, ask for the church. It doesn't matter if you are in a small pueblo/town, or a large city, such as Lima, every Latin American city has a plaza and the church always faces the plaza. This serves as a central meeting place, full of music, families, pedestrians, art, and great restaurants. Speaking of restaurants, I ate lomo saltado, a typical Peruvian plate, at a restaurant that overlooked the Rio Rimac and the thousands of pedestrians that walked along the river. From this vantage point, I observed the strangest happenings. There were hundreds of the same vendors set up in miniature booths along the river. They stood with thousands or balloons, hundreds of teddy bears, various key chains, tee-shirts, beaded jewelry, and other strange little trinkets. However, none of the pedestrians stopped to purchase anything except for ice cream. Also, I assumed that the thousands of families on foot were heading to a particular destination or main attraction, but it seems as though they were just walking in circles.

 After leaving the balcony, we headed down into the crowd to further investigate. Finally, we walked up to a large crowd of hundreds of people to see what it was all about. Turns out, at the center of the group there was a Michael Jackson impersonator. About a hundred feet later, another group was crowded around a mariachi singer. Later, a comedian/clown. This went on for miles - the same trinkets, similar street performers, and same families with five babies following behind. It was almost as though we got dropped into a twisted carnival in Peru, where the vendors were selling merchandise they uncovered from a shipwrecked cargo ship from the early 90's. Very strange indeed.

Early Monday morning we left our hotel for the airport. I had with me far too many bags to bring with me to Cusco and Machu Picchu. Hotel Kamana was nice enough to store my largest bag for the four days we would be gone. This made me a little nervous. As I handed off my bag, I figured there was a slight chance I may never see it again. We arrived at the airport an hour and a half before our flight only to find out it was cancelled. I later heard from another sales representative the flight was overbooked, then cancelled, then weather problems were to blame. Something wasn't right. I saw on the large flight monitor that there were several LAN flights going to Cusco that morning and was certain I could talk my way onto one. Especially since the cheapest airfare for an American from Lima to Cusco costs over $300. At first, the LAN flight counter stated there was nothing they could do besides get us on a 1 pm flight. Although we technically could have waited four hours for this flight, I refused to accept the fact we were going to spend my first day in Peru at the Lima airport instead of site-seeing in Cusco. I asked the sales associate to speak with her manager, clearly pointing out that our flights cost over $700. I also told them that we had a train to catch, which was true except our train wasn't departing Cusco until the following day. I wasn't trying to be intimidating but the sales associate appeared to be scared and after speaking to her manager, she told us to follow her quickly. I wasn't quite sure where we were going but I went along with it. She used her badge to get us through the security gates, put our suitcases through the security belt ahead of other guests, flew us through the long lines into the terminal, and led us into a maze of people that were waiting to board the next flight to Cusco. She then told us to wait.



View from airplane. Cusco, Peru

 I must say, I was beginning to feel bad. This sales associate went above and beyond, getting us through security in a little under three minutes. She also stood with fear in her eyes as she worked with the supervisor to get us on the waiting list. After the plane began boarding, she'd look up at me from time to time to see if I was glaring at her. I smiled and tried to show her that I was not going to be upset either way. Unfortunately, she was unable to get us on that flight and instead of giving up, she ran us to the second floor of the Lima airport! This floor had another flight boarding to Cusco. Just before the doors began to close, she personally lead our suitcases down the jet way and put baggage tags on them! She even handed us ticket stubs with the seat assignment crossed out and a new seat scribbled on it. This woman found a nearly impossible way to get us on the last flight to Cusco that morning. Right before we boarded, I gave her a huge hug. She seemed surprised but then gave me a gigantic smile, proud of what she accomplished. If this adventure taught me anything, it is that nothing is certain in Peru. People are very laid back and the rules are not set in stone. If you are friendly yet push hard enough, you can get anything you want. I practiced this new found knowledge later that day after arriving in Cusco...

Travel Tip: I learned from Peruvians that the term 'indigenous' is often considered an insult and has a negative connotation. The reason being is that the term is attached to poverty, as the Europeans would shun indigenous people from society. This is similar to the word 'cholo', which translates to a mixed breed dog. Sadly, the Spaniards used that word also to call indigenous people and those mixed with them. Therefore, be mindful of this if/when traveling in Peru and other Latin American countries.

Goodbye Bogota! What I Will Miss Most...

During my time in Colombia, I became a different person. I learned about new cultures and customs, traveled to many new places, and acquired many new friends. I also a lot about myself, being thrown into a different culture alone, while working in a new and exciting industry that was very different from my position in the US. 

Final day in the O.I. office

During my last week in Bogota, I was able to wrap up my project that documented the various controls associated with their four products and corresponding risks. On Friday, I sat with Lina, the head of risk, to review this deliverable that I completed over the five weeks with the Opportunity International office. I also gave her a list of suggestions/observations to improve their current processes. This list included items as simple as: including a description on the top of forms, and/or including the sub-process or the person that was to use each form; creating a new check list organized by those that were mandatory and non-mandatory; and implementing a new layout of the intranet site that would breakdown each form, sub-process, and manual by their corresponding product. I also suggested that once they made some minor changes to the sub-processes, including adding the forms used and sourcing the control spreadsheet, they could use the sub-process documentation as a training resource for the 'asesor comerciales', or sales representatives. During my time in the Cartagena office, I noticed how often the asesors would come into Jefferson's office to ask questions. With the upgrades and edits to the existing sub-processes, the documentation would be all inclusive with a step-by-step of each process, the people responsible for each step (mostly the supervisors and asesors), the corresponding forms for each process, and rationale/objective behind each sub-process. As such, these could given to each field office as a guide that the asesor comerciales and supervisors could reference when they had questions.

Following my meeting with Lina, I spoke with both Claudia, the head of HR, and Lina about my experience in the office. They asked me about my most memorable experiences, the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I told them that the most memorable experience was without a doubt visiting the clients in Cartagena. I explained that I studied finance with the ultimate goal of using it in the micro-finance industry. I also told them how much I loved the clients and their joyful spirits, how moved I was by their attentiveness during the meetings, and how great I thought it was that they were able to offer credit to these very small pueblos, among other things. I also thanked them for making me feel very included in the office and for their friendships. Before ending our meeting, they gave me a gift that was accompanied by a card that was signed by the office. The gift was a book of famous photography taken throughout Colombia. I was very moved by the gesture and even more excited that the book will be a conversation piece for years to come. I also hope to bookmark the landmarks that I have visited, and ones I hope to visit in the future.

Celebrating my pretend birthday with the entire office!

Post-meeting, Claudia and Lina invited me to lunch, and allowed me to extend the invitation to all those who I would like to join, which ended up being about half of the office! Around noon a group of five of us headed to Sopas del Carajo to grab a table. I wasn't sure who would make it and after waiting for about twenty minutes, I began to think it would just be a small group of us. However, right before ordering, a huge group of twenty of my closest coworkers came strolling into the restaurant to surprise me! We laughed, dined, told stories, and ended the lunch by celebrating my pretend birthday with songs, cake, and large laughs! It was one of the best meals I have ever had and prepared me for joyous goodbyes which are far superior to sad ones.

I am certain that I am a better person than I was before my trip and I have many people to thank for that. I spent a lot of time reflecting on my time in Colombia and I made a list of the things I will miss most. They are, in no particular order, as follows:

Musica a todas horas. In Colombia, music is playing at every, single hour of the day. It doesn't matter if it is four in the morning, or if it is lunchtime...music is playing. I learned of this while in Carmen de Apicala, my first weekend in Colombia. As I tried to sleep, around 4 am, music blasted from the villa. At the time, I thought surely it was a one-off coincidence, or that the cervesas were to blame, especially because there was a seven year old that came as a part of our group. How naive I was. The music blasted the following night until the sun came up and continued the next month of my trip. Carlos Vives was one of the most popular Colombia singers, but it wasn't always native music coming from the speakers. For example, early one morning, I woke up at Ana and Seba's and entered the bathroom to shower. I began cracking up as I heard, with a very thick Spanish accent, "I hate myself for lovin' chuuuu", as 80's garage band music blared from the house below them. It wasn't just Carmen de Apicala or Seba's house where these incidents occured; the loud music even followed to the hotel I was staying at. At times, when I found it difficult to sleep, I complained to the front desk at my hotel. I found it peculiar that the graveyard front-desk clerk just laughed, responding that there was nothing he could do. I now know that it is just a part of the Colombia culture. People love their music and it is not stopping anytime soon.

Traditional Colombian plate

La comida. If you asked me pre-Colombia what makes a good meal, I would surely respond: meat, cheese, good bread, ice cream, and perhaps a latte. This leads me to believe that Colombia was always a part of my destiny. Nearly every meal contains meat. The meat is fresh, sans chemicals, tender, and juicy. It is also never ending. The cheese is so very fresh that it tastes very different from any cheese I have had in the U.S., or even France. It is pure and light. The fruits are hard to come by in the city but were overabundant in Cartagena. The bread was excellent, toasted to perfection, and very fresh like the rest of the food in Colombia. Lastly, the ice cream and coffee were extremely flavorful and delicious. I also became addicted to a caramel-like substance called 'arequipe', a Colombian delicacy, as well as a coconut flavored wafer called 'Cocoselle'. I will miss many things about Colombia but the food is up there. Cheese and meat empanadas, ajiaco soup, arepas, chorizo, arequipe, round bread with cheese insides, fried plantains, baby beef, Cocoselle wafers, and coffee candies will dance in my dreams for years to come. 

Myself and Esperanza

Myself and Juan Carlos

Mi transporte (Esperanza y Juan Carlos). Everyday at 7:30 am on the dot, either Esperanza or Juan Carlos would be waiting patiently outside as I frantically ran out with my coffee burning my hand, and my notebooks falling out of my purse. Needless to say, I am not a morning person. Juan Carlos, who was contracted by Travelers, would pick me up on even numbered dates. He was always well-dressed, professional, and kind. At first, he was very serious and I didn't know if he liked me. However, as time progressed, he opened up and I realized that he had a huge sense of humor. When Dayron  visited me, he drove us around Centro and even sat with us. He taught me about Colombian culture, told me funny stories, and also shared the same devotion to soccer as I do for football. Not to mention, he was a complete stud! Esperanza Martinez, who came on the odd dates, worked for Travelers, the company I was staying with, and was responsible for organizing all of the transportation, hotels, and accommodations during my six weeks in Bogota. If I was cold, she made sure a heater was brought to my room. If I had to stay late, she was there when I needed a ride. When I had questions, she was there to answer them. Esperanza and I shared long conversations over my trip and we shared a lot of advice with each other. I also went to her house on my last night in Bogota. She had three girlfriends over whom she'd known her entire life. We ate dinner and hugged for a long time before I left. I got a tad bit weepy when I said goodbye to her as she was another mother to me during my time in Bogota. I will miss her very, very much. I sent her a dozen roses the morning of my departure to thank her for all she had done to ensure I had a great time. I also promised her that she would receive a boyfriend by Christmas, which god-willing will occur! She of all people deserves to find true love.

Patricia's family at her home

La manera de vida. During my time in South America, I fell in love with the way of life. Back in the U.S., I was very accustom to eating lunch at my desk, rushing from place to place, penciling in time with friends, and getting as much done in a day as humanly possible. I believe I am greatly responsible for this lifestyle, but I also think that it is very much a part of the American culture. We are wired to be productive and efficient. I believe it is what makes our country so successful from an economic standpoint. However, it is also the reason we do not enjoy the simple things in life. Far too often, I see passengers on the MUNI (bus) in San Francisco on their phones, missing views of the Golden Gate Bridge as they pass by. I watch fathers on their blackberry's completely unaware that their kids are pulling on their suit cuffs. I see waitresses rushing from table to table as their customers eat so quickly that the food is hardly digested  That is surely not the case in Colombia. People take two hour lunches. They stop by each others' desks and discuss the highlights of the weekend. They trade pictures of their kids. Outside of the office, people cook with family members, listen to music, and make handmade, cold juices. They blast music from their homes, grill food, play with their kids, and help one another. As I have mentioned in many of my blog posts, I am deeply moved by the kind nature of Colombian people. Although the roads are extremely congested, the lines can take twice as long, and the businesses take an extra quarter to perform, overall, Colombians are generally happy and appreciative of the little things in life. I envy their lifestyle and made a commitment to myself to take time out of my days to appreciate the small things and always remember to stop and smell the roses.

Sebas's Grandparents

Seba's mom and grandma sewing

Unidos en casa. One night with sitting with Sebas at his house, he asked me why Americans move out of their homes at such a young age. That question really struck me and I didn't have an answer. I told him that I moved out when I was barely 18 for college and that I tried to get home to visit my family as often as possible. I often miss my family and wish I lived closer to them. I guess it is just a part of our culture, to move away for college in order to start our own lives outside of our homes. I wish this very American custom began later in life. Sebas, who is 24, told me that he was going to go to LA the following year to study English, but that hesitant and sad to leave his family. In Colombia, I found it very endearing to see how close mothers were with their sons, fathers were with their daughters, aunts/uncles were with their nieces and nephews, grandparents were with their grand kids, etc. I was welcomed into many of my coworkers' homes and the amount of love and unity displayed between family members is something that I will never forget. It goes without saying that if you were a friend of one family member, you were a friend of all. If I needed a ride somewhere, not only would my coworker offer, but their entire family would be backup. Within Colombian families, the expression is uno por todo o todo por uno, or one for all and all for one. For example, before going out one of my last nights in Bogota, Seba's mom and grandma sewed Ana's pants before we left so they would fit well. I will surely take this back to the U.S. with me as the family unity is something I love most about Colombia culture.

Enrique, CEO of O.I.

Diego (operations) and I

La gente de la oficina de Opportunity International. I formed my own little family in the Opportunity International offices. The office was organized, and often segregated, by technology, operations, HR, credit, risk, accounting, treasury, marketing, and specialized senior positions such as the lawyer, regional manager, CFO, and CEO. Each group had its own little clique but I found myself blending the lines between each division. I went shopping with Lorena, the assistant to Claudia, the HR manager; had coffee and discussed Cartagena with Mara, one of the sweetest girls in the office who is from Cartagena and  is a credit analyst; made small talk with Hermina, the office lawyer; shared weekend stories with Claudia, the HR manager; created new projects with Diego, the processes manager; gave tips to Cesar and Andres, the SARS risk team; and talked often with Enrique, the CEO of the office. I built relationships with nearly everyone, and will never forget these fifty or so members of the OI office.

Brian, Myself, Carlos

However, my closest companions during my time in the OI offices were Bryan, Carlos, Patricia(s), and Ana. The six of us were like a miniature family. We became extremely close despite being an unusual pairing. Bryan, the head of marketing, was very Colombian but lived in the US for 20 years. Therefore, he and I cracked jokes as he taught me about the cultural differences between Colombia and the US. On my first day in the office, I asked him what he real name is (what I meant to ask him was if he went by Bryan from his days living in the US and had a Colombian name). He fired back that it was his stripper name. I knew we would get along just fine. Carlos worked for Bryan and sat behind me in the office. Carlos is extremely mannered and very respectful. He is also a bit shy. Being outgoing and a bit forward, I spend much of my time getting him to come out of his shell by cracking jokes and making him feel comfortable. He kept his courteous ways but also opened up over the five weeks we sat together, showing me videos of his cat and telling me stories of his weekend. He is such a pure and kind soul. On my last day in the office, he pulled me aside and gave me a small farewell gift, remembering my favorite colors. The gift was so very thoughtful of him. The first of the two Patricias, or as I liked to call her "Patty", sat in front of me. She introduced me to plantano chips and she shared my sense of humor. We often laughed and made funny faces when one of the men in the office came by and gave us kisses on our forehead. Every morning Patty was the first to ask me how my weekend was, how I was feeling, and always made a point to make me feel at home. Behind me sat Patricia Bueno, who became like my mother in the office. She brought me soup when I was sick, the same soup she would cook for her sons when they were not feeling well. On my last day in Bogota, she invited me to her home where her sons played the guitar and sang for me. Before taking off, she called me and wished me safe travels. She was so very kind and loving, and it was very hard to say goodbye to my Patty's. The last person that I did not mention was Ana, but I will get to her later...

Myself, Bryan, Ana, Patty, Carlos, Patricia

Los clientes de Opportunity International. It would be completely remiss if I did not mention the overwhelming impact that the Opportunity International clients had on my experience in Colombia. I spent a little over five weeks in the OI offices and just two days with the OI clients. That said, the clients taught me more in those two short days than the five weeks I spent in the office. Not only did they teach me how to be extremely positive in very adverse conditions, they taught me how to keep a smile on my face when things were far from perfect. They taught me what it meant to be a part of a community. They taught me how to be a better student. They taught me that people just need access to funds to improve their lives. They taught me that you can trust others to make diligent payments on your behalf. They taught me how to be welcoming to someone that was foreign. They taught me how be proud of where I was from. They taught me the power of a family bond. They taught me about hospitality, bringing me a warm coke during the cold day. They taught me that it does not matter how many material things you own, it is all about the company you keep. They taught me the true definition of organic growth; they were using the small microloans to grow their businesses to improve the lives of their family, and therefore their community. They were living examples of where charity should be directed. When leaving their homes, they sang to me a famous Colombian song which had a chorus that went, "Saraaaaaaa, mi Sara!". They taught me how to be a better person and I will forever be in debt to these amazing clients of Opportunity International.    

Myself and Ana

Mi Anita. In previous blog entries, I mentioned Ana Cristina Montavani. I met Ana my first day in the Opportunity International offices and from that day forward, she became like a sister to me. On my very first day in the office, she helped me get a cell phone, took me to lunch, and got my computer set up. She was even there when I Skyped my sister, Kelly, while she was in the hospital delivering her first baby. She invited me to Carmen de Apicala which enabled me to make my first group of Colombian friends. She had my bed changed at my hotel when I told her I had trouble sleeping and ordered my medicine from the pharmacy when I was sick. She made sure my rides were arranged, organized my stay in Cartagena, and even made sure my translations were correct in my project for work. Despite all these helpful things, none of them compared to her friendship. At times, I found the cultural and language barriers to be difficult. She was there to give me a hug. Other times, she gave me relationship advice and compared my difficulties to her own to make me feel normal. She made me feel as though I was not alone despite being very sick in the hospital and far away from my family. She called me repeatedly after I got rear-ended by another car until she made sure I was okay. She taught me how to be more patient with others and to always smile even when having a bad day. Ana was like a big sister to me and I will miss her most of everyone I met in Colombia. She is a genuinely good person and I love her not only as a friend, but as a sister. I look forward to going back to Bogota and visiting her next year. I am very certain we will always be close and it is her friendship that made my time in Bogota the best months of my life.

The next stop on my journey is Peru. Here is an entry from my journal that I wrote when taking off from Bogota, Colombia to Lima, Peru:

Awaiting my departure from Bogota to Lima, Peru with 3 more bags than I came with, 50 new friends, and hundreds of memories that will last me a lifetime. Colombia is home to the most welcoming and kind people in the entire world. The only thing preventing me from jumping out of this plane is the fact Machu Picchu is next! I love you Colombia. ♥ Sarita

I will be sure to update with details on Lima, Cusco, Machu Picchu, and my final journey to Los Angeles to visit my family! For now, goodbye Colombia. Until we meet again....

Me encanta Bogotá

Three prescriptions, two shots of medication, five ajiaco soups, ten glasses of tea, and eight liters of water later, I was able to emerge from my bed in order to go to work on Friday morning. By midday I was feeling much better as I waited eagerly for my first visitor here in Bogota. Daryl (aka Day) landed at 7:30 pm. I got a ride from Juan Carlos and we waited outside the exit doors of Bogota's new international terminal. The airport opened less than a month ago and is very modern with a glass exterior which made it very easy to spot Day.

We spent Friday night eating pizza and watching Taken 2. On Saturday morning, we ate a wonderful breakfast at the hotel, took some pictures on the roof of my building, and got picked up by Juan Carlos for a tour of Centro Bogota. On the drive there, we took Carrera Septima, one of the major roads here in the northern part of the city. Juan Carlos pointed out a church at the top of the mountain, which could be accessed by an aerial tram or by foot. We passed through the financial district of the city, where my office is located, before entering the youthful, university filled district. This part of northern Bogota is full of artsy, bohemian students sitting on top of graffiti painted walls eating lunches, and mismatched, bright, colorful buildings. We continued on and upon entering Centro Bogota, it was obvious that we were in a very historical part of the city. The streets were packed with pedestrians and there were various signs pointing to the homes of famous Colombia artists, extremely baroque cathedrals, and even an entire museum full of art made of gold called Museo de Oro. 

Interior of church

Exterior of church

After parking, we proceeded down a street that possessed the same feeling as Haight-Ashbury. There were artists selling unique paintings, colorful clothing, and hand-made jewelry. The streets were cobblestone and the buildings were extremely antique. We walked about three long blocks downhill until entering the grand Centro plaza which was full of kids playing, lamas, a gigantic Christmas tree, lights, and hundreds of locals and tourists alike. It was a site to be seen. Bordering the plaza was the Catedral Primada de Colombia, as well as various museums, theaters, and historical buildings. Juan Carlos walked with us and gave us some historical insight before we entered the Cathedral. A service was being held inside but we were able to enter the eighty foot doors leading inside. The ceilings were extremely tall with wood beams, decadent crown molding, and beautiful arches. Day and I took some pictures of the building and we continued on.

While walking along the plaza, we were asked to step off the sidewalk when we got closer to the home of the president, currently occupied by Juan Manuel Santos. Judging by Juan Carlos's response, along with other coworkers' opinions, the current president is accepted by the residents of Colombia but not loved. According to my sources, he has done a great job improving foreign relations, increasing trade partners, and mastering political relationships. However, when elected in 2010, he promised to focus on internal administration efforts and to reduce corruption here in Colombia, which has not been his focus as of late. Prior to the current president, Alvaro Uribe was president from 2002-2010, and he did an excellent job cleaning up Bogota, hiring thousands of police to ensure safety, and cracking down on the notorious violence in Colombia. As such, he was very popular among citizens. In fact, in 2008, his approval rating reached an unprecedented rate of 91%. However, after six years as president, in 2009, stories of corruption were leaked and his approval rate plummeted before leaving office in 2010. I was very appreciative of this brief history of the past two Colombian presidents, as it coincided with our own political elections. Ironically enough, in 2008, during the last US presidential election, I happened to be living in Chile (call it coincidence, genius, or pure luck...). Although the 2008 election was more of a celebration of Bush leaving office, as he eliminated many of the free trade laws with Chile during his presidency. During both of these presidential races, it was inspiring but also a bit uncomfortable to witness the overwhelming impact our election has on the citizens of Colombia and Chile, alike. This past week, nearly every magazine and news channel was almost entirely focused on the race, and I was asked up to ten times by various Colombians for my opinion on the election. The publicity and focus on our election is just one example of the significant influence the United States has on nearly every country around the world, including those located in South America. We have the power and influence to impact many lives, lives of people that we often do not realize are stakeholders. I hope every citizen of US, especially those with significant influence and authority, will begin to consider how their actions will affect the lives of people in every corner of the world. I know I will.


Anyways, enough about politics and back to Bogotá....

On the walk back to the car, we stopped for food at a traditional Colombian restaurant which was so old that it was almost too small for Day. In fact, he hasn't been able to fit just about anywhere in this country. Despite the low ceilings and tiny tables, we had a great meal. Here in Colombia, it is socially unacceptable for people that are on the clock to eat with their employers. As a result, Juan Carlos initially refused to sit with us and sat at a different table. Even though he was giving us a city tour on this particular day, I found it very silly, as he was now a friend of mine. I convinced Juan Carlos to sit with us and we had a wonderful lunch. We left Centro shortly there after for the hotel to rest. Around dinner time, Ana and Sebas came by. Ana and I cooked pasta, chorizo, and a salad while the guys played Sebas's xbox that he brought over. I found it endearing that Sebas wanted to be sure they had something to do together since the language barrier made him nervous. They ended up getting along very well and we had to literally strip their game controlers from their hands. Turns out Street Fighter II is a universal man language. Later that night, we went to a night club by the name of Bendito Bar, where Ana's good friend was the DJ. The music was mostly electronic, salsa, and some pop music. Although I felt awkward dancing to such drastically different genres of music compared to what I am accustom to, the club's extravagant light show, laser beams, and foam and fake smoke falling from the ceiling, made the entire experience very enjoyable.

Sunday was spent at the Mercado de las Plugas, a flee market near my apartment that is held on Sundays (and in this case Monday as well because it was a three day holiday weekend). There are three other markets similar to this one around Bogota but I was told this one, located in Usaquen, is the nicest due to its location. Usaquen is a thriving neighborhood, located behind the Centro Commercial de Santa Barbara, the shopping mall of the district of Santa Barbara, which is walking distance from my apartment. We weren't quite sure where we were going, as Day and I were solo on foot, but we knew we were in the right place when we turned a random corner and located a quaint plaza surrounded by great restaurants, as well as blocked off streets full of families, tents set up with art for sale, and great smelling food. While shopping, we met a man dressed in traditional Caribbean clothing who told us about a reggae club on Carrera Septima called Congo. We thanked him and continued on our way. Day and I had an amazing time at the market...so much so that we debated returning the next day!

Making police blush

After leaving the market, we went to back to the room, ordered food, and got ready for a night out. When we arrived at the address, we found that Congo was closed for construction but we stumbled upon Mr. Reggae next door. This nightclub was entirely different from the one that we went to the night before; it was very small on the second story of a cozy, eclectic building and was much more laid back, with music we were familiar with, and a crowd dressed in jeans and comfortable shoes. We danced, laughed, and soaked in the sounds of reggae into early in the morning. We also posed for various pictures request by people that honestly thought we were famous. I am becoming professional at pretending that I am a basketball wife. 

Day left Wednesday morning and although I was sad to see him go, I was so very thankful that he came to visit me. We were able to explore new parts of the city that I was apprehensive to go to alone (clubs, Centro, shopping markets, etc.). I fell even more in love with Bogotá and its bohemian yet polished, artistic yet defined, and antique yet  industrialized pockets scattered throughout the city.

 

Colombian Hospital

Not sure if it was the water in Cartagena, the heavy food in Bogotá, or a combination of the two, but I got very sick on Tuesday of last week, after returning from the coast. I had very strong pains in my stomach and food poisoning. I left work early on Wednesday and as time progressed, I became very dehydrated which led to a terrible headache. Since it was my second to last week here in Bogota, I did not want to miss work and attempted to go into the office Thursday morning. Apparently, I wasn't looking too hot because Claudia, the head of HR, told her assistant, Lorena, to take me to the hospital clinic. You may wonder why I am telling you this. Well, it would be remiss if I left out one of the greatest adventures of my trip, which was my experience at a Colombian hospital.

Lorena and I left the office around 9 am for one of the few hospitals in northern Bogota. I was hesitant and felt as though it was a bit dramatic to go to a hospital. However, I am known to have a high pain tolerance and once had pneumonia when I thought it was just a cold. I figured I should avoid a similar situation. Once we checked in at the hospital, I waited about thirty minutes before realizing that a nurse had been calling my name over ten times. Here in Colombia, residents have two last names (father's last name, followed by mother's maiden name). When they took my information from my passport, they thought my middle name was actually my common last name and, therefore, were calling for "McNair Brooks", which sounded more like "MEE-GNAR BOOK-REYS". I laughed with the nurse and she took me back to take my temperature, ask me questions about my symptoms, and perform a small exam of my stomach by pressing on various organs. Not sure if I understood or answered any of her inquiries correctly. I later got called back to have my blood drawn and other tests run by the cutest little nurse. She also gave me a bag with two small containers in it and I think she told me to wait in the front with them. About 10 minutes later, I was called into a third room where I was given Pedialite-ish liquid by two young medical technicians. I thought the female technician told me to finish it so I began chugging the bottle before she grabbed it and told me I was to drink 500 ml twice a day. Before this experience, I was beginning to feel nearly fluent in Spanish. However, that was up until I was presented with medical terms and the metric system. I literally made out about 1 in every ten sentences, and had close to no idea what anyone was saying at the hospital. The male technician then told me to lay down, which I did. He started laughing and told me to lay on my stomach. Before I knew it, I got two shots in my rear end and was told to wait in the lobby again and that it would take 90 minutes for the results of the blood tests to come back.

Lorena, who was not allowed to enter the various testing rooms with me due to their small size, had been waiting in the lobby with close to 70 sick people. By this time, we had been at the hospital for a little over an hour. Not bad at all. However, since it would take 90 minutes to receive the results, we decided to go to the cafeteria to avoid the germ-ville lobby. We returned on time and eagerly awaited the results; not only was I feeling sick, but more importantly, I needed to escape the germs, the woman that was crying, the man slumped over with bloodshot eyes, the kid with the very displaced broken finger, and the guy with blood on his side, soaking his shirt. I kept thinking that if this was the United States, the hospital would not have as many sick people in one area (there over 8 million people in Bogota and this hospital was the only one in the northern part of the city), but would also not move as quickly as this Colombian hospital. I was pretty sure I would be in and out in under three hours which is incredible compared to the emergency rooms at home.

Lorena and I waited as the 90 minute mark passed, then 2 hours passed, and we still had not heard my name called with the results. I am a bit impatient. Actually, by "bit", I mean "very". I asked Lorena if she could enter the hospital doors and politely ask what was holding us up. I didn't want to miss my name being called again. When she came back through the double doors, she was laughing. She told me that the first nurse, the one that gave the the bag with two small containers, had actually been waiting for me to give her a a sample of my #1 and #2. I will leave that part to your imagination. The doctor said that they had the blood results but thought that I would be bringing them the executed containers once I was able to do so. I began laughing hysterically along with Lorena. Not because I was embarrassed, but because had we not asked, we could have waited until 2054 due to this misunderstanding. The exams were optional and I politely declined. The doctor then told me that my blood results were perfect and notified me that the water in Cartagena often makes people sick and that the symptoms take a couple of days to present themselves. I told her that I only drank water from water bottles but she retorted that even brushing your teeth can expose you to this stomach virus. I thought I was being careful enough, practicing the same discipline as my many trips to Mexico, but I was naive and did not avoid water at all costs.

I was given a list of medications and we went to the cashier to pay. I had to pay out of pocket, as my travel insurance reimburses after the fact. I was surprised to see that without insurance the total cost of the the hospital visit, shots, blood work, and laboratory results came to under 200,000 pesos, or a little over $100. Again, without insurance. I believe that is how much I pay with insurance to visit an emergency room. Although the overall experience was more comical than traumatic, I was still a bit under the weather and was very happy to leave the hospital and its sick inhabitants. That said, I must say, I was impressed with the efficiency, affordability, cleanliness, and treatment options at the Colombia hospital.

I got a ride home and when I arrived, the receptionist at my hotel, Felipe, offered to call to have the prescriptions delivered and called to order me some food. In Bogota, everything can be delivered. Literally, everything, including a successful industry of manicurists that come and do your nails in the house. When the food arrived, my life was changed. I kid you not. There is a famous soup called "Ajiaco". It is god-sent. The main ingredients are potatoes, shredded chicken, and corn. Although it sounds simple, it single-handedly brought my back to life. It was so delicious that I also ate it for dinner on Thursday, as well as lunch on Friday, when a small group of my favorite coworkers went out to celebrate Patricia's birthday. If you ever have the chance to come to Colombia, keep in mind that hospitals are very clean, sterile, and affordable, and that Ajiaco is the best soup in the entire world.

Ajiaco

I left my heart in Cartagena

After two very informative, busy, exciting days with the Opportunity International office, I looked forward to a couple days off in order to explore the beautiful, tropical city of Cartagena, Colombia. I spent Friday evening eating arepas in a hammock on my porch. I went to sleep early in eager anticipation of a full day in the Islas de Rosario.

Before departing my hotel on Saturday morning, I ate a banana, soaked in the warm, tropical heat, and threw on a bathing suit. I later jumped in a cab for the main boat harbor where I paid about $40 for a full day on a private boat, which carried about 15 people. This also included lunch, snorkeling, and a tour of about five islands, with the climatic final destination being the famous Playa Blanca. Our boat departed from the city's main docks, located in the Centro, at about 9 am. It was very fast and followed the coastline, allowing me an excellent view of the antique buildings and colonial ruins that border the entire city of Cartagena. I learned that Cartagena was founded in 1533 by a Spanish commander by the name of Pedro de Heredia. In the years following, as a result of the city's ideal location between the Carribean islands, South America, and North America, many pirates attacked trying to overthrow the city. As a result, during the 17th century,  the Spanish Crown hired the services of prominent European military engineers to carry out the construction of fortresses, which are nowadays one of Cartagena's clearest signs of identity. Many of these engineering works took well over 208 years to build, and ended with some eleven kilometers of walls surrounding the city (pictured below). Many of these coastal walls and colonial structures are much older than the United States.