The students of Travel Journalism enjoyed
their opportunity to share about their experiences during the Santa Cruz trek,
and so they are excited to update you again! This time, they have chosen to
experiment with blogging as journalism by shifting the format of their writing.
As a group, they pre-planned thematic topics related to their anticipated
experience and conducted observations and interviews throughout the Lares Trek
towards Machu Picchu. The following is a weaving of content they produced...
“And We're Off! - Beginning the Journey to
Machu Picchu” by Scout
After a few busy days in Cuzco, which
encompassed a series of clinic visits, time with parents, perusing market
stalls, and a number of emotional ups and downs, TTS (+ parents) once again
prepared to hit the trail. Following lots of packing and repacking, at seven
o'clock Saturday morning there was a pile of duffels, backpacks, and TTS girls
ready and waiting to load the bus. After two and a half hours of windy roads
and conversation, with the occasional stop to pick up another one of Puma's
family members, we arrived at the trailhead. Upon finishing up the last of the
packing process, which included the loading of gear onto some 32 horses, our 40
plus collective feet began the steady uphill towards our first campsite set
high in the mountains. [Don't forget to read the rest of Scout's post, which
describes the end of the adventure!]
“Pumaisms” by Feyza
“Today is the best day of all of our lives,”
Puma would say at the start of each morning, motivating us to embrace the next
24 hours with enthusiasm and appreciation. Puma’s wise anecdotes, shamanic
wisdom, love and positivity towards life, and wonderfully warm and
compassionate crew contributed a special layer to the parent trip and our Machu
Picchu visit, creating an unforgettable time.
Before our Inca adventure, Puma introduced us
to his family referring to his son as his “latest reincarnation” and his wife
as “the woman I have chosen to share my life with.” He demonstrated a shamanic
ceremony, letting everyone set an intention for the coming days. During our
trek to Machu Picchu, his crew provided elaborate three course meals, enchanting
flute music while we hiked, and a supportive loving family atmosphere. Puma
would share advice such as, “everything goes two ways” or “listen to yourself
first, and last.” We were impressed with how the crew brought a few of their
children and a baby who were all easy going and enjoyable to be with. One
ritual Puma showed us during the Lares trek was a group activity to help us
stay in the present. We would stand in a circle all holding hands and repeat
“hampui”: while saying this, we would start with our hands up, and bringing
them down, we emphasized the moment we were in. The whole group absorbed Puma's
wisdom on life, medicine, and nature, diligently drinking avocado pit tea when
they felt ill, or listening to Puma when he would say, “We walk with Pachamama
(mother earth) not on Pachamama.”
While at Machu Picchu, Puma educated us on
Incan and pre-Incan history. Between his explanation on how the Incans moved
massive rocks by blowing one hundred conch shells, to showing us his favorite
spot where one can stand on a small rock and feel as though they can fly like a
condor, we left Machu Picchu satisfied. Despite the thousands of tourists and
hundreds of guides, Puma had shared with us an experience no one else could;
creating another day that was “the best day of our lives.”
“Striking Spirituality” by Allison
Two days before we left for our two-day long
backpacking trip on the Lares Trek, we went on a spiritual journey with our
guides. The ceremony that they performed was to ask for permission from the
mountain spirits to climb the pass and ask for good fortunes on our upcoming
trek. Two of our guides initiated the ceremony by placing out offerings such as
cookies, chocolates, money and seeds. After that, they gave each of us three
coca leaves to which we stated our intentions and hopes for our upcoming
journey. The three leaves represent the condor, puma, and serpent, which are
animals that portray one's spirit, physical body and consciousness,
respectively. We did a similar ceremony at our first stop on the trail, but we
only stated our intentions and placed our leaves in a creek running by the
resting place.
Trudging up the steep trail, a thought
flitted through my head of, “I can't do this.” Just then, mystical music
floated to my ears making me feel lighter and more encouraged to move forward.
I searched for the source of the music and saw one of our guides playing a
beautifully crafted wooden flute. The music carried our group forward up the
steep, rocky terrain and gave a sense of hope and peace.
Over the course of the trek, I received a
plethora of information about the sacredness of this trek from Puma and our
other guides. On our second and last day, we climbed about a 15,000-foot pass,
the highest elevation we have experienced this entire trip. At our first break,
Puma told us each to find a small rock and carry it to the top of the pass.
When we reached the top, we were instructed to leave our rock there with a
wish, intention, or something we want to leave behind. As everyone trickled onto
the mountaintop, Puma explained how passes are like portals for your soul. When
you are on one side of it, you are still your old self, but when you cross
over, you become a new person - the person you want to be. Also on the top of
the pass is one of three crosses in the entire mountain range, which stretches
from Chile all the way to the North American Rockies. The cross was brought up
by the Spaniards, is dressed in colorful clothing, and has a face with a crown
on top. Puma described to us how native people of Peru wake up at 12 in the
morning, do the entire hike in four hours and are at the top of the pass to see
the sun rise over the sacred valley.
The entire trek was a truly magical
experience. I felt like I was a part of something, something that had been
sacred hundreds of years before I was born. Pre-Incans, Incans, Quechua people,
citizens of Peru and tourists have all climbed this phenomenal trek to feel the
sacredness and spirituality woven into the valley.
“The Rhythm of Decadence” by Charlotte
The encouraging trail of Puma's flute receded
as a congratulatory chorus overtook its shrill notes. The sight of our campsite
for the first night of our trek induced rejuvenated cheers, grateful sighs, and
joyous high fives. The sea of red, blue, and tan tents set up by our abundance
of arrieros along with the oblong dining tent dotted the green mountain's
gentle slope. Our parade of thirty-two horses, cook crew, and horsemen had
preceded our arrival and prepared the campsite for our stay.
The initial euphoria of accomplishment
gradually faded for TTS girls and their parents. We added base layers, wool
hats, and extra socks as insulation. We set out sleeping bags onto firmly blown
pads and ventured to the river to refill our water bottles. The guides set
bowls of hot water outside to wash our hands. The evening on the Lares Trek
proved chilly as we expected. I felt grateful for the close proximity of the
dining tent. “The dining tent is always there to warm me up with hot
chocolate,” Anne Fawcett related. Three long tables brimmed with boxes of tea,
silverware, giant thermoses of boiled water, stools, tin cups, and bags of
powdered milk. Cook crew served rounds of soup, platters of rice, vegetables,
and chicken, and bowls of chocolate pudding. Sophie, chieflet for the day,
proposed a dinner discussion of our favorite carbohydrates. Shivers disappeared
as we passed steamy mugs and created bonds within our extended group. Although
dimly lit by candles, the tent felt bright with a content but sleepy energy.
The morning arrived quickly and ensued with
the guides' good morning calls. Parents and siblings stuffed their duffels and
zipped them shut. Girls shoved clothes and gear deep into our lightened packs.
Trays of bread and bottles of yogurt circulated the breakfast tables while more
and more faces ventured into the tent. Puma's optimistic voice greeted us with
his favorite words, “Today is the best day of our lives.” Once duffels were
stacked and ready to be loaded, the group gathered to leave. Parents outfitted
with hiking poles and girls with tightly strapped packs departed to start the
adventure of trekking with the promise of finding the lunch tent soon.
TTS' first glimpse at glamping (glamor
camping) came as a surprise. Allie Stevens explained, “I have never heard of
the term 'glamping' before, but I have been camping my whole life.” After the
pure form of camping we partook in during the Santa Cruz trek, the Lares trek
felt luxurious. From our downsized packs, plethora of guides, three course
meals, and a herd of horses drooping with gear, the experience was decadent and
less strenuous. With the circumstances and company of the parents, glamping
provided a treat.
“Trekking
Triumphs via Trail and Terrain” by Alizah
The
Traveling School – now encompassing eleven moms, dads, siblings, and a portion
of Puma's extended family – began our trek by bus. Despite a 5:30 wake up, it
was among our most chatter-filled rides yet as we raced to get to know the new
faces surrounding us. Our two and a half hour journey was punctuated by stops
so brief that the bus seemed to do no more than slow down; during each, new
members of Puma's family would jump aboard, smilingly introduce themselves, and
proceed to weave through the aisles and hug every one of the bus' occupants.
We
came to our first substantial stop at the base of a winding dirt road, where we
swung the familiar weight of our packs onto our backs and helped the parents to
do the same. With a mix of eagerness and apprehension, we began our ascent to
the Lares Trek's pass. The uncovered dirt road soon gave way to a steep,
forested trail along which the overhang of trees diligently shaded us from the
intensifying sun. Our steps gradually became steeper as the trail climbed, yet
the hum of conversation never quieted (though it was increasingly interspersed
by panting). Our group – which now walked in single file, as the trees framing
our path grew closer together – stretched nearly a quarter mile back from start
to finish. At each rare but warmly regarded plateau, we'd shed another of the
morning's many layers, refill our water supply in the river that unfailingly
flowed alongside us, and catch our breath just enough to articulate “BAM,”
drawing the rest of the group's attention to the sweeping valleys, waterfalls,
and cloud-tipped mountains surrounding us.
The
next four hours of steady ascension pulled us out of dense forest into open
valley views as the trail – now rockier but no less steep – wove along the
periphery of the Lares trail. As we approached lunch, which proved more
difficult to find than expected, we crossed back and forth over the river using
improvised boulder bridges. Full and reinvigorated, we finished our post-lunch
climb expediently and in good spirits, finally arriving at camp after a nearly seven-hour
day of hiking. Our tents, surrounded by towering boulders, sat just below our
final destination of 15,800 feet, an elevation that threatened to put Santa
Cruz's 14,250 feet to shame.
After
an equally early morning, we left our extensive campsite behind and set off for
the pass. In our steepest ascent yet, we gradually conquered the distance
separating us from our goal; the knowledge that our final push would give way
to a day of downhill made the seemingly endless switchbacks ahead less ominous.
Finally, legs aching and cheeks pink, we reached the elevation-apogee of our
trip so far.
After
an obligatory photo, Nature Valley bar, and shamanic rock ceremony break, we
began our descent, calling upon muscles that had been forgotten in our climb.
The Trail's initial steepness never wavered, giving way to innumerable
pants-staining butt-slides. Tentatively, we descended steep rock steps,
frequently stopping to peel on and off rain ear as the sky vacillated between
extremes. The downward sloping terrain, though daunting in its own way, allowed
for conversation and trail games as the group's order reshuffled. Exhausted, we
reached lunch, refueling in preparation for three final hours. Two sporadic
rain showers, three lake sightings, and some not-so-graceful falls later, we
finally arrived at the road that had been taunting us in the distance. Both
exhausted and relieved, our group reunited, looking back at the eighteen miles
we had come.
“Sick
Days in Cusco” by Courtney
We
looked at the vast and sunny city of Cusco from the tight balcony of the “Choco
Museo.” As I sipped chocolate tea with my mother, I pictured myself on the
Lares Trek with bruised hips, freshly blistered feet, and a queasy stomach.
With another taste of my hot, flavorful beverage, I began to come to terms with
the microscopic villain living in my intestines.
The
day started lazily, when I rolled awake at 9:30 in the Royal Inka Hotel, dubbed
as “The Parent Hotel,” by my TTS classmates and teachers. For breakfast my
mother and I strolled across the Plaza to a quaint French bakery. We welcomed
the day with warm croissants, blueberry jam, and fresh coffee. “What shall we
do today?” my mother asked, as I savored my croissant. I shrugged, uneasy with
the control I suddenly had over my schedule. After two and a half months of
living with my high school, the concept of planning my own day felt foreign and
strange.
It
was decided that Heather F., the teacher that stayed back with us “sickies,”
would take my mother and I to the local market. The smiling vendors at the
market proudly displayed everything from vegetables to shaman tools in a maze
of organized sections. The smell of fresh bread and juice hung in the air. With
purchases of pottery and earrings, we exited the chaotic and colorful
labyrinth. We wandered through the cobble stone streets, eventually ending up
at “Jack's.” Lunch at Jack's consisted of hot sandwiches, caramelized banana
pancakes, and the enormous mango frappe I ordered. With our stomachs and money
belts full, we shopped around the streets packed with alpaca sweaters, sparkly
earrings, colorful scarves, stylish bracelets, and leather purses. My and my
mother headed back with our arms full of fuzzy sweaters.
When
we returned to the Hotel, I felt a strange mix of exhaustion and appreciation.
Lucky to be sick in a place as interesting and vibrant as Cusco. Before
trudging up to our hotel room, my mother treated me to a haircut at the hotel's
salon. With a quick scrub and an intense blow-drying session, I lost
recognition of the girl with straight hair staring back at me. Having smooth
and tangle-free hair was another strange concept that I hadn't encountered
during TTS.
After
a dinner of hot chicken noodle soup in the hotel dining room, I abruptly collapsed
onto my giant bed. With my soft hair, new sweater, and grumbling stomach, I
felt like a Peruvian princess with a parasite. Sick days in Cusco aren't so
bad.
“Condors,
clouds and civilizations” by Rebecca
“Trains, Buses, and Cuzcan Afternoons –
Our Journey Back” by Scout
Once
again shouldering our bags, we began our lengthy procession back to the train
station to board the Harry Potter-esque Inka Railroad that would take us out of
the Machu Picchu mist and back to the rest of Peru. Students filled their time
with naps and reading, while parents slept and shared pictures or conversation.
Almost two hours later, the TTS contingency emerged onto the sunny platform
bleary eyed and a little disheveled, and headed towards the bus. Much like the
train, the bus time was filled with napping. Interrupted only by a brief stop
at a local chicheria to learn about the traditional fermented corn drink, and a
fancy buffet lunch, we ascended the windy roads back to Cuzco. Upon arriving at
the hotel, we said goodbye to Rick and Jennifer who would be home-bound that
afternoon, and divided to conquer math classes, explore the markets and shops,
or spend a final evening with parents. The journey to Machu Picchu concluded
with good moods, unpacking, and a good night's sleep before beginning the next
few days of classes.
Click on this link for more photos from the trip!
https://www.dropbox.com/sc/hd67ta6yuum5gv8/V6OYFYa7K_
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